


Hang On To Yourself

by arwens_light



Series: Weirdos, Freaks, and Geeks [3]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Canon Relationships, F/M, First Time, Jancy, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-01-27 03:06:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12572360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arwens_light/pseuds/arwens_light
Summary: Will had episodes, flashbacks full of terror. They were few and far between, but they were still there. And when they happened, it make Jonathan's skin crawl. To see Will's face contorted in horror, his eyes brimming with tears, his thin frame shaking was horrible. Joyce would hold Will as he shook, sobbing soothing words quietly into his hair. Jonathan felt helpless, unsure of what to do, how to make it better, unsure of how to protect his little brother and chase away those fears.Stranger Things - Jonathan POV - Season 2*Updated Rating*





	1. Here Today, Gone Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything. The genius Duffer Brothers own all characters of Stranger Things. 
> 
> All chapter titles are inspired by the great Bowie. I think Jonathan would approve :)
> 
> As requested by the wonderful sammiej - here is the first chapter of my Stranger Things Season 2 from Jonathan Byer's POV. I'm going to strive to dig deeper into several areas that the show conveniently left undiscovered. :) I hope you enjoy!

The months following Will's return from the other side were filled with ups and downs. Joyce took Will to the Department of Energy lab to see their doctors. That had been part of the deal; monthly check-ups and if Will had an episode, a flashback or a night terror, they were supposed to report it to the lab. Jonathan had gone with his mother and brother the first few times; it had been hard to watch the nurses poke and prod his little brother like a laboratory experiment. 

Chief Hopper had shown up to Will's first appointment at the lab and Joyce's relief had been tangible. The doctor that attended to Will was blunt, but not unkind. The first time he had entered the examination room, he immediately focused on Will and attempted to strike  a conversation with him, trying to put him at ease. Will had stared at him uneasily as the nurses bustled about. Joyce fidgeted nervously at Will's bedside, anxiously observing everything that the medical staff subjected her little boy to. The doctor eventually leaned across Will's chest and held his hand out. "Mom, I'm Dr. Owens," he said, shaking Joyce's hand. 

"Joyce," she returned, a bit hesitant. It was hard to trust anyone in this Government lab, especially after everything that had happened. Hopper placed a reassuring hand on Joyce's shoulder. 

Doctor Owens stood up and extended his hand toward the Police Chief. "Dad, nice to meet you." Hopper opened his mouth to correct him, but Joyce dug her fingernails into the Chief's hand. "Jim," he said simply. The Doctor turned to Jonathan and greeted him as well before returning his attentions to Will. He explained all of the medical stuff to Will, what data they were collecting and why they were going to keep track of it. Will nodded nervously, squeezing Joyce's hand every now and then. 

Before too long, the doctor stood. "Well, Champ, just make sure to tell your mom if you experience anything strange and we'll arrange for you to come right in. We'll work through this together."

Will nodded solemnly. 

Will had episodes, flashbacks full of terror. They were few and far between, but they were still there. And when they happened, it make Jonathan's skin crawl. To see Will's face contorted in horror, his eyes brimming with tears, his thin frame shaking was horrible. Joyce would hold Will as he shook, sobbing soothing words quietly into his hair. Jonathan felt helpless, unsure of what to do, how to make it better, unsure of how to protect his little brother and chase away those fears. But eventually, as the weather warmed and the sun shined more brightly, the terrors subsided and Will wasn't called into the lab as often. Jonathan hoped that Will really was getting better, but sometimes, he couldn't help but feel like Will wasn't telling them everything. 

Joyce and Jonathan tried to ensure that Will's summer was filled only with happy memories. July had been the best month, the long, sunny days seemed to drive away any memory of the Upside Down from Will's mind. The boys had gone swimming in a shallow pond almost every day that summer; Jonathan had tagged along to watch over Will. He had hopped to see Nancy, maybe spend some time with her, but she hadn't come. 

Jonathan didn't hang out with Nancy much, not since everything had happened. After all, she and Steve were still together and although Jonathan and Steve were now on friendly terms, he didn't want to over step any boundaries. 

He did have English Literature with Nancy and he was glad to finally have a class with someone he considered to be his friend. It would make group projects much more enjoyable. 

On day, in late October, as Jonathan was following Nancy out into the hall, a girl was passing out orange fliers. She handed one to Nancy, which Nancy read curiously. Jonathan slowed his pace as Nancy stopped sharply. "Can I have one more?" she asked the dark-haired girl. 

A hand suddenly shoved an orange piece of paper into Jonathan's stomach. He glanced down, eyebrows raised. 

"You're coming to this," Nancy informed him. 

Jonathan scoffed, reading the crawling text. "Come and get sheet faced," he read. God, who comes up with this crap? He rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips, knowing that Nancy was grinning at him expectantly. It was very difficult to say no to Nancy Wheeler. 

"No," he retorted, trying to sound determined, "I'm not."

Nancy gave a little huff of indignation. "I can't let you sit all alone on Halloween. That's just not acceptable," she stated, tucking the flier into the sleeve of her trapper keeper. 

Jonathan shrugged. "Well, you can relax. I'm not gonna be alone." He glanced at Nancy, whose eyebrows were raised in disbelief. 

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to elaborate. 

When she didn't say anything, Jonathan finally relented. "I'm going trick-or-treating with Will."

"All night?" Nancy challenged. 

Clearly Nancy hadn't been trick-or-treating with their brothers recently. These kids were crazy when it came to Halloween. They spent months planning their costumes, plotting out which houses to hit for the best candy. Jonathan hadn't dressed up himself in several years, but he always enjoyed tagging along with Will and his friends. It was nice. 

He nodded, smiling to himself. "Yeah," he confirmed. 

"No, no way," Nancy refuted. "You're gonna be home by 8:00, listening to the Talking Heads and reading Vonnegut or something."

She wasn't wrong about the Talking Heads or Kurt Vonnegut. He had recently checked out Slaughterhouse-Five from the Hawkins Public Library. It wasn't his fault that he liked to listen to good music and read weird science fiction books in the comfort of his own room. 

"Sounds like a nice night," he said, enjoying their banter. He always enjoyed talking to Nancy. She was smart and funny, she always knew what to say that would make him crack a smile when the rest of the world  pushed him aside. 

Nancy made a small noise of frustration. "Jonathan, just come," she pleaded. "I mean, who knows, you might, like, meet someone."

Jonathan felt his smile falter. That was the thing... he didn't want to meet someone else. It was stupid, he knew that. She probably didn't even think of him like that. Anyway, she was with Steve... Jonathan had grown to like Steve, he even though he was a pretty good guy, especially after everything that had happened last year. 

As Nancy turned to open her locker, Jonathan caught movement from the corner of his eye and saw Steve move in, wrapping his arms around Nancy as she yelped in surprise. 

That was his cue to walk away. So he did, down the hall toward his next class. It was stupid, but Nancy still sparked something inside of him. And Jonathan wasn't ready to let that go quite yet. 

After school, Jonathan stopped by the video rental store. It was movie night in the Byers household and it was Jonathan's turn to choose. He slowly walked the aisles, studying the titles. Will wouldn't mind whatever movie he choose, as along as it wasn't too scary. Their mom's new boyfriend, Bob, had also requested no horror movies. Jonathan's fingers hovered over The Evil Dead, feeling devious for a moment. It wasn't that he didn't like Bob - Bob was okay. A little dorky for Jonathan, but he was a nice guy. He was kind to Will and he really seemed to like their mom. That made him okay in Jonathan's book. Instead, Jonathan grabbed a couple silly movies he thought Will might enjoy. 

When he arrived home, Jonathan knocked on Will's door, pausing for a moment before slowly pushing it open. Will was sitting on his bed cross-legged, drawing. He looked up as Jonathan entered. 

Jonathan grinned, feeling slightly silly that something so normal as his little brother coloring could make him feel so content. "Hey bud," he said. "I didn't know what you'd like, so I got a variety. Take your pick."

Will shrugged, "Whatever you want," he muttered, turning back toward his drawing. 

Jonathan paused, a bit unsure. Will was usually excited for movie night. Of course, he preferred drawing, but he still enjoyed curling up on their lumpy old sofa between Jonathan and Joyce as they watched the newest flick. "All right," Jonathan returned slowly, not quite certain what to do. Neither of the Byers boys were big talkers, but normally Jonathan could get Will to open up to him. 

He sat down on the edge of Will's bed and glanced over at Will's paper. "What are you working on?" he asked. 

He caught Will's brief moment of hesitation, noticed how his little brother started to pull the paper closer to his chest. But Jonathan had already seen. It was a drawing of a man, with ripped and bloodied clothes, walking through a forest. Jonathan noted Will's neat writing at the bottom of the page. 

"Zombie Boy? Who's Zombie Boy?" he asked with a slight grin. Will was always drawing new characters for the boys' Dungeon and Dragons quests, or for other stories they made up. It wasn't unusual for Will to be sketching warriors and wizards battling against dragons and other monsters. 

Will's pencil paused before scratching against the rough paper again. "Me," he mumbled. 

Jonathan's stomach seized. "Did someone call you that?" he pressed, trying to catch Will's eye. 

Will' lips pursed slightly as he avoided Jonathan's gaze. 

"Hey," Jonathan pressed. "You can talk to me. You know that, right?" He needed Will to know that he could come to him, talk to him, about whatever, about anything. That Jonathan would never belittle or look down on Will. Not ever. He desperately needed Will to understand that he was on his side. "Whatever happened..." Will remained silent, focused on his drawing. "Will, come on, talk to me," Jonathan pleaded, reaching toward Will. 

Will pushed Jonathan's hand away roughly. "Stop treating me like that," he snapped, eyes shining. 

Jonathan's brow furrowed. "What? Like what?" What had he done wrong?

"Like everyone else does. Like there's something wrong with me."

"What are you talking about?" Jonathan insisted. 

"Mom, Dustin, Lucas. Everyone." Jonathan noticed that Will had started to shake, the pencil trembling between his thin fingers. "They all treat me like I'm gonna break, like I'm a baby," he finally looked Jonathan in the face, his eyes swimming. But Will wasn't crying, Jonathan saw, he was angry. Jonathan's face fell, feeling ashamed at himself. "Like I can't handle things on my own. It doesn't help," Will fumed. "It just makes me feel like more of a freak."

"You're not a freak," Jonathan insisted, earnestly searching his little brother's face. 

Will shook his head. "Yeah, I am," he contradicted. "I am." He huffed in annoyance and turned his focus back to his drawing. 

Jonathan sat for a moment, pondering. He sure wasn't normal - hell, he didn't want to be normal. So why was he so set on Will being normal? Because he thought it would spare Will a bit of adolescent pain? Jonathan had been bullied and beaten up when he was younger for being different - for being a freak. But Jonathan had come to realize that as much as it sucked to feel like an outcast, to feel like he didn't belong, he was comfortable with who he was as a person - and that's what really mattered, right? So what is other people thought he was a freak. 

"You know what? You're right." He nodded and shifted, swinging his legs onto Will's bed so that he could sit face to face with him. Will had frozen, his eyes wide. "You are a freak," Jonathan said, nodding in affirmation. 

"What?" Will stared at Jonathan, not grasping the change in his brother's thinking, like he was trying to figure out if he was messing with him. 

"No, I'm serious. You're a freak," Jonathan stated, shrugging, "but what? Do you wanna be normal? Do you wanna be just like everyone else?" He bent his head down to look his little brother in the eye, to make sure that Will knew that he was being serious. "Being a freak is the best. I'm a freak," he admitted. 

Will was still looking at Jonathan like he didn't fully understand. "Is that why you don't have any friends?" he questioned. 

"I-I have friends, Will," Jonathan stammered, caught off guard. Okay, well that was a lie. He pushed his hair out of his eyes. 

Will frowned, looking even more confused. "Then why are you always hanging out with me?"

"Because you're my best friend, all right?" That was 100% the truth. Will's eyes softened slightly as he started up at Jonathan. "And-and I would rather be best friends with - Zombie Boy - than with a boring nobody, you know what I mean?"

Will didn't look convinced. 

Jonathan sighed, trying to find the right words. "Okay, look..." he started, racking his brain. "Who - who would you rather be friends with? Bowie or Kenny Rogers?"

"Ugh," Will cringed, making a face of disgust. 

Jonathan grinned proudly. He had taught his baby brother well. "Exactly. It's no contest. The thing is... nobody normal ever accomplished anything meaningful in this world." He raised his eyebrows, hoping he picked the right words. "You got it?" he asked, hopefully. 

"Well..." Will paused, considering, "some people like Kenny Rogers."

"Kenny Rogers?" The boys turned toward the voice. Their mother's new boyfriend, Bob, stood in the doorway. "I love Kenny Rogers!" he said good naturedly, chuckling. 

Will giggled and tried to cover it up with a poorly timed cough. Jonathan smiled. 

"What's so funny?" Bob asked, stepping into the room. 

"Nothing," Will said hurriedly. 

Bob noticed the rented VHS tapes on Will's bookshelf and picked them up, examining the top movie title. "Mr. Mom! Alright, perfect!" he exclaimed, holding up the tape. "Joyce, we're watching Mr. Mom!" he called, disappearing back down the hallway. Jonathan bit down on his finger, attempting to hold back his laughter as Will began to laugh out loud. 

They did watch Mr. Mom for movie night. Bob sure enjoyed it. Jonathan felt like his brain might turn to mush. He half wished he was in his room, reading Vonnegut. But Will seemed to be enjoying the movie too, so Jonathan stayed if for nothing else up to listen to the sound of his brother's laughter. 

It was a good night. 

But sometimes, it seems, good things never last.


	2. Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see first chapter for disclaimer

In the middle of the night, Jonathan woke briefly to Will climbing into his bed. He could feel his little brother tremble beside him. Jonathan began to sit up, but Will shook his head, pulling the covers around him. 

"No," he whispered, "don't tell Mom. I'll go back to my room in a minute, I just..."

Jonathan laid back down, blinking heavily. "Stay as long as you need to, buddy," he mumbled before sleep pulled him back under. 

Will had returned to his own bed by the time Jonathan woke the next morning. Jonathan pulled himself from the warmth of his bed and got ready for school. Their morning routine had almost returned to normal - Jonathan would make breakfast, Joyce would lose her keys and run frantically around the house in search for them. Will would sit quietly at the table and draw. 

Jonathan pushed eggs around a pan as he heard his mother rummage around in her room. Bread popped from the toaster and Jonathan picked up the hot bread, trying not to burn his fingers.

"Jonathan?" he heard his mother call to him.

"Yeah?" he called back, dropping the slightly burned bread onto a plate. 

"Where's Will?"

Jonathan turned, pan in hand. "What?" he asked, confused, an odd sense of eerie dega vu filling his mind. 

Joyce stood across the kitchen, looking at him expectantly. "Where's Will?" she repeated, panic beginning to rise in her voice. 

"He's not in his room?" Jonathan could have shown he heard Will moving around in his room earlier this morning. 

"No," Joyce started when a noise in the bathroom caused her to turn. She burst into the small bathroom. "Will? What are you doing?"

"Peeing?" Jonathan heard his little brother reply. 

Joyce returned to the kitchen, her face flush. Jonathan raised an eyebrow at her and she scowled in return. "Don't look at me like that," she muttered, sinking into a chair. 

Jonathan choose not to say anything and instead, placed the place of toast and scrambled eggs in from of her. 

When Will emerged from the bathroom, Joyce leaned back in her seat. "Your costume is hanging in my bedroom, sweetie," she called after Will. "I had to finish sowing on the patch last night."

She turned back to her breakfast before glancing up at Jonathan. "You're still planning to go with him tonight, right?"

Jonathan nodded, sitting down opposite his mother. "Yeah, of course."

Joyce let out a breath of relief. "Ok, ok," she muttered to herself. 

"Mom," Jonathan sighed. 

Joyce waved a hand dismissively. "I know, alright? I just... I can't help put worry..."

The boys had decided to dress up as the Ghostbusters this year. Will had told Jonathan that it worked perfectly - there were four Ghostbusters and the four of them. Joyce had sewed the jumpsuit to Will's specifications and Jonathan had helped Will assemble his proton pack, which they constructed using an old backpack and odds and ins they found rummaging in the shed behind their house. In the end, Jonathan thought it had turned out pretty well. 

Joyce helped Will into the costume and then lead him out to the living room, instructing Jonathan to take as many pictures as he could. Jonathan retrieve the camera Nancy had given him last Christmas, making sure the film was set. He grinned as Will bounced on his toes, barely able to contain his excitement. 

"Alright buddy, get ready - three, two one..." Will gave two thumbs up, his smile lighting up his thin face. Click. Jonathan grinned, advancing the film. "Great, now hold up the proton blaster," he instructed, getting a better angle. Joyce murmured happily next to him as Will fumbled with the vacuum tubing they had tapped to a pop-gun. Click. "All right, now turn to the light," Jonathan said, pointing his thumb toward the living room window. 

Will struck an action pose, arms extended, a giggle on his lips. Click. 

Jonathan smiled, straightening. "I think these will come out great - it's an awesome costume." 

"Yeah?" Will seemed extremely pleased. 

Joyce glanced at Jonathan. "Can you take Will to school together? I need to -" Joyce stopped, seeming unsure if she should continue. 

Jonathan shrugged. "Yeah, of course." He ruffled Will's hair. "All right, come on Spengler," Jonathan teased, "we gotta get you to the lab!"

Will rolled his eyes, but couldn't keep the smile off his face. Will was almost bouncing in the passenger seat of Jonathan's beat-up old car on the way to school and Jonathan couldn't blame him - it was a pretty cool costume. 

Jonathan dropped Will off at the Middle School entrance and headed over to Hawking High School. 

The halls were decorated with orange streamers and balloons. Jonathan heard a couple kids in his Algebra class whispering about Tina's party that night. He sighed to himself. Nancy would expect him to go, but he had already promised his mom that he would take Will trick-or-treating and honestly, that sounded a hell of a lot more fun. The rest of the day passed in a mindless blur and before Jonathan knew it, he was climbing into his car. 

Back at home, he worked on a couple homework assignments before putting on his headphones and listening to The Clash. His fingers twitched in time with the drums, his hair rising and falling with the bob of his head. He got so wrapped up in the music that he didn't realize Joyce and Will had returned until his little brother poked him in the ribs. 

Jonathan jumped in surprise, the headphones jerking at the sudden movement. 

Will laughed as Jonathan caught his arms. "Hey, you! Don't do that!"

"But your face!" Will howled with laughter. "You should have seen yourself, Jonathan!"

Jonathan couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips. "Whatever - just don't dish it out if you can't take it," he said, wiggling his fingers at Will. Will squirmed away, keeping clear of Jonathan's offensive hands. 

"Boys!" Joyce yelled from the kitchen, "come grab something to eat before you head out!"

Jonathan followed Will to the kitchen, where Joyce had laid out Wonder Bread and peanut butter. Will dumped the slices of white bread onto the table and began smearing a thick layer of peanut butter on one slice. Jonathan sat down opposite of Will. "Make me one too, bud, huh?"

Will scooped a large chuck on peanut butter from the jar and wiped it on the bread. Jonathan chuckled as he opened the sandwich and spread the peanut butter evenly over the bread with his finger. Joyce brought over a half-empty gallon of milk and set it on the table between the two boys. Will poured himself a glass and passed the carton to Jonathan. Jonathan finished eating the sandwich before lifting the jug to his lips and washing it down. 

Joyce scolded him as Will smirked. Jonathan grinned back at his brother and returned the milk back to the refrigerator. 

Joyce turned to Jonathan, pressing a hand to his arm. "Make sure that he doesn't eat too much candy all at once, he'll get sick. Make sure that you stay together and don't let him wonder off from the group. It's dark out, so make sure you bring a flashlight -"

"Mom!" Jonathan interrupted. "It'll be okay! It's Halloween, there will be tons of kids out tonight."

"Yeah, Mom," Will chimed in. 

Joyce waved a dismissive hand as the doorbell rang. She answered the door and ushered Bob inside. Bob had slicked his hair back and rubbed black paint beneath his eyes and to form a widow's peak in his hairline. Jonathan also noticed that he was sporting a cape and fake vampire teeth. 

"I vant to suck your blood!" Bob said in a voice Jonathan assumed was supposed to be Dracula. 

He smiled politely at Bob as Will ran to greet him. "Is that a video camera?" Will explained, examining the black box Bob was carrying. 

"Sure is," Bob beamed. "It's the newest model, just arrived at Radio Shack last week. Pretty neat, huh?"

"Yeah," Will agreed, running his fingers over the buttons. 

"Want to take it with you tonight? Jonathan could video tape the Ghostbusters, keeping Hawkins safe from all those creepy ghosts!"

Will laughed good-naturedly. "Yeah, cool!"

Bob glanced over at Jonathan. "Want to come check it out?" he asked. "I'll show you how to work it, come on."

Jonathan took the video camera from Bob, adjusting his grip to hold it securely. 

Bob clicked a button. "You can adjust the lens manually if you really wanted to, but this baby has some first-class features. See those buttons on the top?" Jonathan glanced down at the machine. "Those your focus buttons. So you hit "T" to zoom in, and "W" zooms back out," Bob explained. 

Jonathan tested out the equipment, slowly zooming in and out of Bob Newby's nose. Simply enough. 

Bob smiled brightly at Jonathan. "See? Easy-peasy. Oh-" he extended his hand, pointing to a small button on the side. "Just make sure to turn off the power to save energy. This puppy can sure drain a battery."

Jonathan nodded. "Thanks," he mumbled. 

"Sure, no problem," Bob said, patting Jonathan's shoulder. "You two have fun."

Jonathan turned toward Will. "Are you ready, bud?" he said, glancing to his mother, who seemed more nervous than usual. 

"Yeah," Will nodded his head. 

Jonathan followed Will outside into the cool evening air. 

"Be safe!" Joyce called.

"I hope it doesn't suck!" Bob added in that horrible accent. 

Jonathan rolled his eyes, but smiled at Will, who was bouncing on his toes in excitement. Joyce waved from the porch as Jonathan backed out of their yard and turned onto the road toward Hawkins. 

"No one was dressed up at school day," Will told Jonathan. "Does no one at the High School dress up?"

Jonathan shrugged. "Not really, I guess."

"But they do when they go trick-or-treating or when they go to parties. It was just weird... no one else was dressed up." Will glanced at Jonathan. "When did you stop dressing up for Halloween?"

Jonathan raised his eyebrows in surprise. "What do you mean? I'm dress up as a Ghostbuster's brother!"

"Ha, ha," Will scoffed, rolling his eyes. "But seriously - Bob dressed up!"

"Yeah, he sure did..." Jonathan scratched his head. "I... I just don't get what she sees in him."

Will frowned. "What?"

"Bob."

Will sighed heavily. "At least he doesn't treat me different." Jonathan bit his lip, guilt tugging inside of him. He liked Bob ok, he just didn't see the appeal. But Bob was a nice guy and he was already kind to Will in a way most people weren't. Most people still avoided the Byers, Will most of all, especially after everything that had taken place last year. The Byers had gone from being weird to freaks. 

"I mean, I can't every go trick-or-treating by myself," Will complained. "It's lame."

"What? You think I'm lame?" Jonathan joked, trying to lighten the moment. 

"No," Will admitted, "but it's not like Nancy's coming to watch over Mike, you know?"

Jonathan was silent, chewed on the inside of his lip, thinking. Joyce had just instructed Jonathan to watch over Will tonight, but it wasn't like Will was going to be alone tonight. Mike, Lucas, and Dustin would all be there with him. Jonathan knew that Mike would never leave Will's side. 

Jonathan understood his mother's feelings, but he also knew that she was prone to paranoia and anxiety. He struggled with himself, fighting an internal battle as he turned up Maple Street. 

He pulled in front of the Wheeler's house, where Mike, Lucas, and Dustin were waiting in the front yard. He heard them yell to Will and Will waved. Jonathan put the car in park as Will collected his proton pack backpack and pushed the car door open. 

"Hey listen," Jonathan said quickly before he changed his mind. 

Will leaned back, studying Jonathan cautiously. "Yeah?"

"IF I let you go on your own, you promise to stay in the neighborhood?"

Will immediately sat up straight, his eyes sparkling. "Yeah, Yeah, yeah, totally."

"-And be back at Mike's by 9:00," Jonathan stipulated. 

"9... 30?" Will pressed?

"9:00," Jonathan said firmly. It looked like he would be free to go to Tina's party anyway. But at least this gave him an excuse to leave. 

"Yeah," Will relented. 

"Deal?" Jonathan asked, extending his hand.

Will clapped his smaller hand into Jonathan and shook it firmly. "Yeah, deal."

"All right."

Jonathan watched as Will climbed out of the door when Bob's camera caught his eye. "Hey, Will," he called, extending the large black box toward his little brother. "Don't let any of your spazzy friendsuse this, all right?"

Will grinned and nodded, carefully collecting the video camcorder. 

"I hope it doesn't suck," Jonathan called, mimicking Bob. 

Will rolled his eyes, but chuckled before running over to where his friends stood, hitting each other with their empty Halloween bags. Jonathan watched as Will showed the other boys the video camera and then pulled the orange flier that had still be shoved into his jacket pocket. 

Well. It looked like he was going to a stupid High School party. Maybe Nancy was right. Maybe he would meet somebody. 

It took Jonathan a while to find Tina's house. It was in an area of town he had never been to and the roads were completely unfamiliar. After driving in circles for half and hour, he finally found the right street. He had to park almost a block away because of the cars lining the street. 

It took him ten minutes just to collect the courage to get out of his car. His heart pounded in his chest and his palms were sweaty. How was is that last year he had been able to face a monster from another dimension but a stupid teenage party scared him more? Finally, he just had to focus himself to move. He trudged up the street, toward the sounds of crappy music and shrieking teens. This was not how he had imagined the night. 

As he wondered up the sidewalk to the front door, he also panicked and hauled ass back to his car. He should have tagged along with Will and his friends. Even if it following from a block behind, it would have been better than putting up with this shit. He felt eyes on him and forced himself to keep moving forward, his face burning. He pushed open the front door and was barely able to squeeze inside the house. Had every single upper classman showed up to this party?

Kids in costumes filled almost every inch of the space. Most of them were dancing, many had drinks in their hands. The smell of sweat and alcohol and vomit hung in the air. 

"Nice costume," someone said behind him. 

"Huh?" Jonathan turned, confused. Was someone actually talking to him?

"Nice costume," a girl in goth make up repeated. 

"Oh, uh, yeah," he stammered, his mind racing. "I'm, uh, going as a guy who hates parties," he joked uncomfortably. 

She laughed. At his joke, not at him. "I'm Samantha," she said, holding out her hand.

Jonathan hesitated. What was happening? "Uh, Jonathan," he replied slowly, feeling apprehensive. He shoved his hands back in his pockets, glancing around the room. 

His eyes almost immediately went to her, almost like he was drawn in to her presence. She wore a very conservative costume, if you could even call it that - a white collared shirt and white skirt with a black ribbon tied under the collar. She had blown her hair straight and clipped it up, out of her face. She looked beautiful. 

Jonathan watched as Nancy danced next to Steve. His stomach dropped unpleasantly, twisting. Why the hell had he decided to come again? He didn't belong here. He should be at home, alone in his room, listening to music and reading. The song playing did sound vaguely familiar... 

He glanced at Samantha, who was still standing near him. 

"K.I.S.S.?" he asked, before realizing what it sounded like. "The band," he quickly corrected, his cheeks burning. He was an idiot. He really shouldn't have come. 

But Samantha laughed again and Jonathan just felt more confused than ever. He wasn't used to this, wasn't comfortable here. He gave a thin, awkward smile. 

"What music do you like?" Samantha asked, leaning forward.

Jonathan's mind went blank for a second as he stared at her. "Uh -"

She raised her eyebrows. "Music?" she repeated.

"Uh, I - well. Bowie, I like um, Joy Division... and Talking Heads ... The Clash.. Bowie..."

She snapped her fingers. "I have heard of David Bowie," she nodded, her feathered hair bobbing. "I'm more of a Banshees kinda girl myself."

"Soiuxsie?" Jonathan asked, pointing to her costume. 

"You got it," she grinned, winking at him. 

A commotion in the kitchen made Jonathan look up in time to see Nancy push through the crowd and down a hallway. Steve hurridly followed after her. 

"Wonder what happened," Samantha commented, taking a sip from her red plastic cup. 

Jonathan shrugged, still staring down the hall. 

Someone yelled in the backyard as a boy attempted a keg stand, following by gales of laughter as the kid tumbled to the ground. 

"So," Samantha began, tracing the rim of her cup with a finger. "Guy who hates parties. Why did you come to Tina's party?"

Jonathan tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "A friend asked me to come?"

Samantha raised her eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"Tina was handing out fliers in school and... my friend told me I should come tonight."

"So where's your friend?" Samantha asked. 

As Jonathan opened his mouth to reply, he saw Steve Harrington emerge from the hallway. He looked upset and brushed past Jonathan. Jonathan watched Steve push open the front door and walk away. 

Where was Nancy? He was sure he would have noticed if she had come back into the room and hadn't seen her following after Steve. He glanced back toward the front door to see if Steve was coming back. After a few long minutes, he moved into the hallway, opening doors until he found Nancy in a bathroom. 

She was sitting on the edge of the tub, towel cradled in her hand.The front of her white blouse had been strained red and tears streaked down her cheeks. 

"Nancy," Jonathan muttered, leaning down in front of her. He gently ran his thumb across her cheek, wiping away the tears. 

She sniffled, staring at the towel in her hand. 

"Nancy, are you okay?" he asked softly, hand resting lightly on her forearm. 

She nodded, sniffling again. 

"Where did Steve go?"

Nancy shrugged and then shook her head. 

Jonathan sighed and stood. "Come on," he said gently. "Let's get you home."

He removed the towel from Nancy's grasp and set it on the counter before slipping an arm around Nancy's thin frame. She allowed him to lead her out of Tina's house, leaning on him as he walked her down the street to where he had parked his car. 

He helped her climb into the front seat and was jogged around to the driver's side. He stared the car and backed out into the street. Nancy slumped next to him, murmuring something he couldn't quite make out. He missed his turn getting out of the neighborhood and had to circle back around until he was able to get back onto a main road he was familiar with. 

By the time he made it back to the Wheeler's, he thought Nancy had fallen asleep, but when he opened the passenger side door and softly whispered her name, her eyes fluttered open. She slowly turned in the seat and tried to pull herself out of the car. Jonathan slipped his arm around her waist, helping support her. As they walked across the yard, Nancy stumbled, almost pulling Jonathan down with her. Miraculously, he stayed on his feet and was able to shift Nancy to his other side. Her arm was wrapped around his neck and she lean heavily against him. 

Jonathan managed to get the front door open and get Nancy inside without making too much noise. He prayed that her parents had already gone to bed. If they were still up, they had shut themselves in their bedroom and did not make an appearance. The biggest challenge was getting Nancy up the stairs to the second floor, where her bedroom was. Nancy's feet kept dragging, catching on the stairs, causing both Nancy and Jonathan to stumble up. Finally Jonathan had to half carry Nancy up the flight of stairs. 

Jonathan was certain that their stumbling up the stairs had been loud enough to wake Nancy's parents, but no one appeared on the second floor as Jonathan fumbled with Nancy's bedroom door. He was able to lay her down on her bed. Her shirt was still damp and badly stained but there was nothing he could do about that at the moment. He carefully removed her boots and set them on the floor at the bottom of her bed. Jonathan pulled the comforter over Nancy, trying not to think about that night so long ago when they had both been terrified and ended up sleeping side by side. The room was awash in a sea of memories, the yellow and cream-striped wall paper paying testament. The smell of vanilla and honeysuckle hung in the air. Photos of Nancy and Barb were still pinned to a corkboard. 

He tugged at the blankets, trying to make sure she was fully covered and warm when he near Nancy sigh and her hand extended to grip his arm. He froze, petrified for a moment until Nancy's eyes open and she muttered his name, blinking sleepily at him. 

Jonathan felt like his heart had stopped. He had never heard her say his name like that... he couldn't put it into words. Her eyes seemed to peer into his soul before slowly closing, her hand growing slack on his wrist. He sighed and gave the blanket a final tug before stepping away. He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, afraid that his fingers would betray him by reach out to brush her cheek. He walked away, pulling the door behind him as he glanced one more time at her sleeping figure. She was home. She was safe. That's all that mattered. 

He trudged back down the stairs and turned, cutting through the kitchen to get to the second set of stairs that lead to the basement. He jogged down the stairs and found Will and Mike slumped against each other, asleep on the old, worn sofa. Their Halloween littered the basement floor and quite honestly, Jonathan was a little surprised there wasn't more. A few candy wrapped had been discarded on the table and floor. 

Jonathan leaned forward and softly touched his little's brother's shoulder. "Will?" 

Will woke slowly, his eyes sleepily going up to find Jonathan's face. Jonathan smiled down a him. "Ready to go home, buddy?"

Will nodded and pushed himself off the sofa, rubbing his eyes. Mike settled further into the couch, mumbling in his sleep. Will gathered some of the candy from the table and shoved it into the pillow case before retrieving his proton pack backpack. Jonathan followed Will up the creaky wooden steps and into the cool night air. 

"How'd it go?" Jonathan asked, pulling his keys from his jacket pocket. 

Will shrugged. "It was okay. Most people had no idea who we were."

"Did you get a lot of good candy?"

Will nodded. "Mike and I some in the basement." Will glanced at Jonathan and then pulled his pillowcase onto his lap. "Do you want some?" he offered. 

"Nah, that's okay. You earned it," Jonathan joked. 

Will was quiet. 

Jonathan frowned, feeling unsettled. "What? Did something happen?" he pressed. 

Will quickly shook his head. "No, no, I'm just tied and..." Will suddenly looked sheepish. "I-I ... I dropped Bob's camera."

"Did it break?"

Will pulled the camera from his backpack and attempted to inspect it in the dark. "I don't think so," he said, as he slowly turned the equipment in his small hands. "It's a little banged up though..."

Jonathan glanced over, but it was hard to tell in the dark. "The lens didn't break?"

Will shook his head. 

He sighed and shrugged. "I'm sure it'll be okay. Bob's a nice guy, he'll understand it was an accident."

Joyce was still awake when they got home and followed Will into his room, anxiously asking him how the night had been. Jonathan retreated to his own room and laid down in his bed, still fully dressed as he drifted off to sleep to the music of David Bowie and tried not to think about vanilla and honeysuckle and ocean-blue eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy! Please forgive me for any typos; I tried to get this chapter out as quickly as possible. 
> 
> And in case any of you are wondering, yes, Jonathan did walk away from Samantha to make sure that Nancy was okay. At least, in my mind he did.


	3. Criminal World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see first chapter for disclaimer

November first came cold and clear. Jonathan work up to the thin yellow light streaming through his window. He lay in his bed for several long moments before he finally pulled himself from the warm of his blankets and began his morning routine. 

While he was brushing his teeth, Will stumbled into the bathroom sleepily. His little brother stuck his toothbrush in his mouth and then closed his eyes and lean his head against Jonathan's arm. 

Jonathan smiled down at Will before gently ruffling his hair. "Come on, buddy, you gotta get ready for school."

Will mumbled incoherently and Jonathan chuckled. A small smile tugged at Will's lips as he slumped against the bathroom sink. 

Jonathan pulled on a t-shirt and then began to make breakfast. 

Almost like clockwork, Joyce burst out of her bedroom in a frantic panic, declaring that she had lost her keys. Will stumbled out of the bathroom, wide-eyed. 

"Baby, go put your clothes on," Joyce instructed her youngest son while searching through the hamper. "Jonathan, I can't find my keys!"

Jonathan moved the eggs off the burner and began to search the kitchen. 

"Jonathan -"

"I know, Mom, I'm looking," he called. Joyce always ended up losing her keys and where they turned up was anyone's guess. 

Will emerged from his bedroom, stumbling down the hall. He grabbed Joyce's purse and began to rummage through it's contents. Jonathan picked up a discarded sweater and checked the pockets. Joyce was frantically searching the couch cushions. 

"Jonathan!" Joyce sounded truly panicked.

"We're looking, Mom," Jonathan tried to reassure her in a calming voice.

"Yeah," Will said, placing the purse on the kitchen table. "We're-we're looking."

"A-ha!" Bob's voice sounded from down the hall. 

Jonathan's head snapped up. What was Bob doing here? When had he gotten here?

"Found 'em!" Bob said, appearing from Joyce's bedroom, holding the missing keys aloft, his face beaming. 

"Oh!" Joyce exclaimed, sighing with relief.

"Hiding under some jeans, sneaky little buggers," he commented before dropping the keys into Joyce's outstretched hand. 

"Thank you," she said, kissing Bob on the cheek, "thank you. You're a life saver." Joyce moved to the kitchen to grab her purse before glancing at Jonathan. "Can you take Will to school today? I cannot be late again."

Jonathan leaned toward his mother, glancing at Bob. "He's staying over now?" he said in a low voice. His mother had never allowed a man she was seeing to spend the night, at least not when Jonathan and Will were there. He wasn't sure how he felt about it. Bob was fine, but he was... Bob...

Joyce pinched her lips and gave him a reproachful look, warning him. "Can you just take Will, please?" she repeated. 

Jonathan was about to nodded when Bob chimed in. 

"I can take him."

The three Byers stopped and turned toward Bob. He smiled, hands tucked in the pockets of his coat. Will glanced at Jonathan and then back at Bob. 

Joyce hesitated, unsure. "Will you make sure he gets in okay?" she asked tentatively. 

"Yeah, of course." Bob nodded to Will. "What do you say, big guy? Wanna go for a ride in the Bobmobile?"

Oh God... Jonathan looked away. He couldn't deal with this, this guy was ridiculous...

Will glanced at their mother and Jonathan heard Joyce laugh nervously. "It's okay, baby," she muttered quietly. 

Will didn't speak for a moment, then mumble, "Alright."

"Great!" Bob said, clapping his hands together. "What do you say we grab a quick bite and hit the road?"

Joyce kissed Will good bye and then hurried out the door. 

Jonathan stood stationary for a moment before he forced his feet to move and finished making breakfast for Will. 

Bob drank coffee and chatted happily while the boys ate eggs and toast. Bob was telling them about all the latest gadgets the Radio Shake was expecting for the Christmas holiday shopping season. Electric typewriters and personal home computers and latest in wireless hand-held radios. Will perked up at the radios and asked Bob how much they would sell for. 

"Gee, I don't know," Bob pondered, sipping his coffee. I've seen some kid ones for about seven dollars, but for you and your friends, you'd probably want something with more power, more range... a moderately priced on will cost you $49.95, but I've heard the Radio Shacks in Chicago and Indianapolis have a real nice one for $99.95."

Will's face fell at the price and he glumly pushed his eggs around on his plate. 

Jonathan kicked his foot under the table and pointed to his plate. "Eat, Will."

Will frowned but finished his eggs. Bob stood and stretched, his tie hanging slightly crooked on his stomach. "Alright, ready to go bud?"

Will nodded and scrambled to get his backpack. Jonathan waved good bye and watched Bob and Will drive out of sight. 

Jonathan collected the dirty dishes and washed them, leaving them to dry in a dish rack. Jonathan pulled a maroon and blue striped sweater from his closet and tugged it on. He retrieved his own school bag from his bedroom and stepped out into the chilly morning air. 

When he pulled into his normal parking place on the hill behind Hawkins High School, he was mildly surprised to see Steve Harrington leaning against the trunk of his BMW. 

Jonathan parked and paused for a moment before getting out of the car. He collected his bag and slung it over a shoulder, straightening the collar of his denim jacket. 

Steve pushed off his car and walked over to Jonathan, eyeing him cautiously. 

Jonathan straightened and the two stared at each other for several long moments. Finally, Jonathan broke the silence. 

"She got home okay last night."

"I knew you'd get her home," Steve said sourly before raising his gaze to look Jonathan in the face. His eyes seemed sad. "Thank you."

Jonathan nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. A breeze from the North was bringing in a cold front. 

Steve began walking toward school and Jonathan followed after him, matching his stride. 

Right before they entered the school, Steve stopped and turned to Jonathan. Jonathan stopped short and for half a second, thought Steve was going to punch him. But Steve sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

"Look man... I'm really glad you got her home safe, really, I am."

Jonathan nodded slowly, not sure what to say. 

"It's just -" Steve began, but then seemed to decide against it. 

Jonathan squinted at Steve in the morning light. "Are you alright?"

Steve waved a hand dismissively. "Sure, why wouldn't I be?" he said, giving a dramatic shrug before pushing open the metal door. 

It must have been a big fight, for Steve to be this upset. Jonathan chewed on his bottom lip, trying to make sense of it all. 

Classes carried on as usual that day and when the bell rang for lunch, Jonathan made his way out to the parking lot. He sat on the hood of his car, as he usually did, to eat his sandwich. 

What he didn't expect was for Nancy to climb up next to him. He stared at her for a moment, thoroughly confused. 

"Hey," he said slowly. 

"Hi," Nancy said curtly. She pulled a soda from her bag and pulled the tab before taking a large gulp. 

Jonathan bit into his cheese sandwich, pondering about what a strange day it had been so far, when Nancy turned to him.

"Jonathan, what happened last night?"

"What?" he stuttered, almost choking on a bit of bread. He did not want to get in the middle of this fight, whatever it was. 

"At Tina's party - I didn't see you there, but Steve made it sound like you were there."

Jonathan nodded. "Yeah, I went. You asked me to."

Nancy bit her lip, frowning, like she was trying to remember. "Steve and I got into a fight..."

Jonathan picked at the crust on his sandwich.

"I-I guess I said some things ... things I shouldn't have said... and... Steve still seems upset."

"Yeah, yeah, he was upset." Jonathan sighed, remembering the pain and anger on Steve's face as he pushed passed him at Tina's party. "I mean, he was... yeah, he was really upset." 

Nancy glanced away, but Jonathan could see the shimmer in her eyes. 

He quickly tried to change direction. He did not want to make Nancy Wheeler cry. "But he was still worried about you," he insisted. Why else would Steve had been waiting in the parking lot for him, to make sure Jonathan had gotten Nancy come safely?

Nancy's lip trembled and the tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. Jonathan tossed his sandwich into a paper bag and desperately wanted to reach toward her, to offer some kind of comfort. 

"Hey -" he turned toward her, wishing he could wipe away the tear trailing down her cheek. "You need to cut yourself some clack, okay? People say stupid things when they're wasted -" Images of Lonnie and Joyce flashed through Jonathan's mind, memories of screaming matches, each more ugly than the last. He tried to blink away the memory. "-You know, things they don't mean."

"Yeah, but that's the thing," Nancy said thickly, "what if I did mean it?"

Jonathan had no idea what had transpired in the bathroom at Tina's party, but he couldn't image Nancy saying something hurtful just to be mean. 

Nancy sniffled, looking down at her clasped hands. "All this time, I've been trying to hard to pretend like everything's fine, but... it's not."

Jonathan nodded. Will was back, he was safe, but nothing could ever go back to the way it was. Will was still battling his own demons and most of the time, Jonathan felt completely helpless. Nothing he could say or do would fix what had happened to Will. Will would never again be able to go back to a carefree childhood - not really. 

"I-I... I feel like there's this..." Nancy struggled to find the right words. "I don't know, like this..."

"Like there's this weight you're carrying around with you," Jonathan finished for her. Jonathan glanced at Nancy. "All the time. I feel it too."

Nancy nodded then frowned. "Yeah, but it's different for you," she said, not unkindly. "Will came home."

"Yeah, yeah, he did," Jonathan agreed, "But he's not the same. I-I try to be there for him, you know, to help him, but..."

Will had come home. He had returned from a week in the other side - the Upside Down or whatever the other boys called it. But it was almost like he had left a piece of himself behind. Will was still Will but... something had been taken from him there. Fear had taken root, deep within Will. Jonathan wasn't sure if it would ever let his little brother go. 

Jonathan sighed heavily. "I don't know," he muttered, looking away. The thought of his brother being eternally tortured within his own mind was enough to bring tears to his eyes. Will didn't deserve that. But what could he do?

"I mean... maybe things just can't go back to the way they were." Maybe they never will. 

Nancy shook her head. "Doesn't that make you mad?" she asked, a fire bubbling just under the surface. 

"Mad?"

"Yeah," Nancy emphasized. "Yeah, that those... those people who did this, who ruined so many lives, they just get away with it."

"The people responsible for this, they're dead, Nancy."

"Do you really believe that?" Nancy challenged, her anger flaring again. 

Jonathan blinked. Had he? He had been so caught up in Will being back, being safe, that he honestly hadn't thought much about it. Hopper had told Joyce that the Department of Energy had to quarantine the school last year and had removed multiple bodies from the site. Jonathan had just assumed that the girl, that Eleven, had killed them all. 

"Your mom's boyfriend," Nancy said suddenly. 

"What?" How on earth did Nancy make the jump from Hawkins Lab to Bob?

"He works at RadioShack, right?" Nancy pressed.

Jonathan nodded slowly, not seeing the connection. "Yeah...Why? What are you thinking?"

Nancy was silent for a few moments before she seemed to make up her mind. "Do you wanna skip fourth period?" she asked, staring intently at Jonathan. 

His cheeks burned. "Wh-why?"

"I think I may have an idea what could expose them, but I need something I can record on."

"RadioShack," Jonathan muttered before nodding. "Okay, let's go." He grabbed his half eaten sandwich and hopped off the hood of his car. 

Nancy was staring at him. "Really?" she questioned. 

Jonathan grinned. "Yeah, get in."

Nancy collected her Tab soda and threw her bag into the back seat before sliding in next to Jonathan. 

Jonathan's insides were doing summersaults. He hadn't skipped school much - once last year and a few times this year to stay home with Will on bad days. 

Jonathan pulled the car out of the parking lot and headed into town. Nancy had asked him to stop by the bank so that she could take some money out of her account for the purchase. 

RadioShack had been built in a new business area of Hawkins. Jonathan parked in front of the store and followed Nancy inside. 

The store contained several aisles of metal shelving units. Various music electronics such as stereo systems, cassette players, and portable Walkmans were lined against one wall, with telephones, and other electronics in the middle aisles. In the back of the shop was a display for a home computer. 

Jonathan could see Bob behind the customer service counter and watched with a wary eye as he followed Nancy over to the stereos. Nancy was studying the Walkmans, specifically the ones with recording features. 

"Nancy," Jonathan whispered in a low voice, "what's going on? What are you thinking?"

"Hawkins Lab - the doctors and the scientists, all of those horrible people, they are never going to admit to what they did, not about Barbara, not about your brother. They're just going to keep doing what they've always done. And more people will keep getting hurt," Nancy replied, tears sparkling in her eyes. "But, but maybe we could trick them into a confession."

Jonathan raised his eyebrows. "That's all good, Nancy, but how in the world are you going to report them telling the truth? It's not like they're just going to invite us into their lab and spill their darkest secrets." He glanced nervously around the store. 

"But what if they did?"

Jonathan actually felt his jaw drop open. "How-"

"I'm still trying to figure that out exactly, but what if we can get them to take us to the lab? If we can get inside and talk to one of the doctors, maybe we can get them to admit what they did..."

Nancy finally made a selection and pulled a box from the shelf along with a package of blank cassettes. "Batteries," she muttered and Jonathan followed after her. 

Jonathan considered. How could they possibly get the Hawkins Lab to allow them to just walk in the front door and give them incriminating information? His mom and Hopper had broken into the lab when they were looking for Will last year and after everything that happened, the government told Joyce that they would be keeping tabs on Will going forward.

Something was there, something he couldn't quite grasp. A solution, an answer to the riddle. 

Nancy collected the batteries and then headed toward the customer service counter at the back of the store. 

As Jonathan followed her, they passed a row of phones - rotary phones, corded phones and wireless phones. 

And then it clicked. 

"The phones," he muttered. 

Nancy glanced at him. "What?"

He pointed up the aisle. "The phones, the government has the phones wire tapped."

Nancy's eyes widened, but as she moved to speak, a voice interrupted them. 

"Jonathan?"

The pair glanced at the customer service counter, where Bob Newby sat. 

"I thought that was you. What's going on, Jonathan? Is everything alright?"

Bob was a good guy, and he did seem genuinely concerned about the strange little Byers family. 

"Hi Bob, yeah, everything is fine, we just -"

"We have a school project and we need a recorder," Nancy jumped in, placing the Walkman on the counter. "Hi, I'm Nancy Wheeler," she introduced herself, holding out her hand. 

Bob shook her head, smiling across the counter at her. "Bob Newby," he returned, squeezing her hand. He pointed his finger at her, thinking. "Wheeler - are you... Mike Wheeler's sister?"

"Yupe, I am," Nancy confirmed.

"Good kid," Bob said, sliding the box across the counter toward him. He examined the box for a moment. "Ah, Sony Walkman WM-3EX, nice choice!" He tapped item number on the package into his register. "And we'll throw in the friends and family discount," he said, winking at Nancy.

Nancy smiled brightly. "Thank you so much, that's so nice of you."

"Ah," Bob said, waving a dismissive hand, "glad to help out a friend of the family. Alright, your total is going to be $127.85."

Jonathan felt his stomach drop, but Nancy just nodded and pulled out her wallet. 

"You kids have a nice day!" Bob called as they exited the RadioShack. 

Jonathan stared at the steering wheel as Nancy climbed into the passenger seat. 

"That's a lot of money," Jonathan began slowly, but Nancy cut him off. 

"It'll be worth every penny if we can take these guys down," Nancy said firmly. "I want to do this."

Jonathan nodded and stared the car. "Alright."

They drove for a few minutes before Nancy turned to face him. "You really think the government is wiring tapping your phone?"

Jonathan shrugged. "Sure, why not. Keep tabs on the troublesome Byers, maybe sure we don't say anything we're not supposed to. Hopper told my mom they planted a bug in his trailer last year."

Nancy chewed on her lip. "Think they would have tapped my house too?"

"Makes sense. Both you and Mike are connected to this - Mike with Will and you with Barb -"

Nancy gasped. "I think I know how to get us an invitation inside!"

"How?" Jonathan asked. 

"I could call Barb's mom... I-I could say that... that I needed to talk to her, tell her something about Barb."

"But how would that be suspicious?"

Nancy snapped her fingers. "I could say I have been lying, that I haven't been truthful with her about what happened with Barb and I... I could tell her to meet me wherever public, because it wouldn't be safe to tell her over the phone."

Jonathan considered. It might work, assuming the government had wire tapped the Wheeler's house. 

"Definitely worth a shot."

 ++

They attempted to sneak in the backdoor, but where stopped by Nancy's mom calling after them. 

"Jonathan?" Karen Wheeler called from the kitchen. 

Nancy stopped dead in her tracks, in clear sight of her mother, so Jonathan stepped out into view. 

"Um, hi, Mrs. Wheeler," he mumbled, fidgeting with his bag strap. What in the world where they going to say about being home in the middle of the afternoon on a school day?

"What a pleasant surprise!", she said smiling, approaching the two teens.

"Yeah," Jonathan said, not really sure of what to say. 

Nancy bumped him in the shoulder and raised her eyebrows. 

"Oh, uh, we- we have a test tomorrow," he stammered hurriedly. God, he was a bad liar. 

"Hmm," hummed Karen, almost like she didn't believe them. She glanced down at the bag in Nancy's hand. "Did you go shopping?" she asked her daughter, her skepticism rising.

Nancy glanced down at the RadioShack bag still clutched in her hand. "Oh! Uh, yeah... my... uh, Walkman broke," she explained. 

"Aw, bummer."

Jonathan rubbed his neck. They were so busted, there was no way that Karen Wheeler believed a word they were saying right now. 

"Anyway..." Nancy continued, "we should go. It's a really big test. So..." Nancy elbowed him in the ribs. 

"Yeah," Jonathan nodded, "stressful..." This whole damn situation was starting to stress him out...

Nancy almost shoved him toward the stairs. 

"Bye, Mrs. Wheeler," Jonathan said as he turned and stumbled up the stairs. 

"Bye!" Karen called after them. "It's good to see you."

Nancy locked her bedroom door behind her for good measure. 

They opened the Walkman box and Nancy carefully read the instruction pamphlet as Jonathan installed the batteries. 

He handed her the Walkman and Nancy turned it over in her hands, testing the buttons. 

"Here, say something," she instructed, shoving the silver record at him. 

Jonathan chuckled nervously before muttering "Hello, Nancy Wheeler."

Nancy clicked several buttons and then Jonathan's voice came through the speakers. "It works!" she said happily before she frowned. "But it's not like I can just carry hold it up and record them." She paused, thinking. 

She rummaged around in her closet for a moment as Jonathan tentatively sat on the edge of her bed. He had been in her room the night before, but everything looked so different in the light of day. 

Finally Nancy emerged from her closet holding a jacket with large pockets. She slipped the jacket on and placed the recorded in one of the pockets. 

"Ok," she said, sticking her hand inside the pocket. "Say something now."

"Hawkins Lab sucks."

Nancy grinned and then pulled the record back out of her pocket to hit play. His voice echoed from the small device again, although this time, slightly less clear. 

"I think.. as long as I stand pretty close to them, I should be able to get a decent recording," Nancy mused, fumbling with the buttons. 

They testing the Walkman a few more times, from different distanced around Nancy's room. 

Finally satisfied, Nancy erased their test recordings so that they would have a clean tape. She crossed her legs and looked up at Jonathan, concern weighing heavily on her features. 

"I think... I think it's time I call Barb's mom."

Jonathan swallowed the lump in his throat. This was really happening. They were going to attempt to bring down the Lab - a government entity. 

Nancy frowned down at her hands clasped in her lap. 

Jonathan began to pace nervously. He wasn't so sure about this - if they got caught - if something went wrong, they were seriously screwed, in the worst possible way. He sighed deeply. "Okay, are you sure about this?"

This was dangerous. They were essentially using themselves as bait. This could all go very, very wrong...

"No..." Nancy admitted. She stared at the telephone sitting on the bed in front of her glancing at the cork board where pictures of her and Barb still hung on her wall. That seemed to settle her resolve. Nancy set her lips and grabbing the phone, dialed the number. 

Jonathan sat down on the edge of the bed, holding his breath. 

Someone answered the line at the other end of the phone. 

Nancy froze for a moment. 

Jonathan raised his eyebrows and mouthed 'Talk'.

Nancy took a deep breath and nodded.

"Mrs. Holland," Nancy responded. "Hi, um, it's... it's Nancy..." She glanced up at Jonathan, looking for reassurance. 

He offered her a small smile and nodded. 

"I... uh... I need to tell you something. Something about Barb." Nancy frowned and wrinkled her nose, struggling, but continued. "About that night. I uh... I um, I haven't been honest with you. But I can't tell you on the phone," she added hurriedly.

Nancy took a deep breath. "Meet me tomorrow, Forrest Hills Park, 9:00 a.m. - Don't tell anyone," she rushed to add, "and, and don't call me back here. It's dangerous."

Jonathan heard Barb's mother answer, but Nancy shook her head, closing her eyes. "I just need you to trust me. Please."

Nancy dropped the phone back onto the receiver and released a shaky breath. She glanced up at Jonathan, eyes shimmering again. 

"It'll work, Nancy," Jonathan reassured her.  

And there was no going back now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support! I hope you enjoy!


	4. Absolute Beginners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see first chapter for disclaimer

Jonathan and Nancy worked out their plan step-by-step. Jonathan would pick Nancy up in the morning and drive them to Forrest Hills Park. They would meet Mrs. Holland there at 9:00 a.m. - that is, if she actually showed up. They would likely be watched by government agents. Would it be enough that Nancy was planning on exposing the truth of what happened to Barb? Nancy seemed confident that it would be. At some point, Nancy deduced that the agents would detain them and take them to Hawkins Lab or another government facility. Would they be searched? What if the tape recorder was discovered? It was a chance they would have to take. While in custody, Nancy was confident she could trick someone into a confession. 

"Who knows," Nancy mused between bites of spaghetti as she and Jonathan ate on her bed, notebooks full of scribbled thoughts and maps laid out between them, "maybe I'll actually get them to admit everything. About Barb -"

"And about what happened to Will," Jonathan added, nodding. 

The next part was a little trickier. They had no idea how long the government would detain them before they were finally released - or if they would be released at all. Again, another risk they would have to take. Assuming they were able to get someone on tape admitting to their crimes and get out of the lab with the tape still in their possession, they then needed a way to expose the lab publically. 

There was no way that any media outlet within the greater Hawkins area would take the word of two kids about a government conspiracy. They would have to go into a bigger city, find a contact with connections that would actually believe them. Where could they go, and who would believe them?

After a long while, Nancy suddenly gasped. "I think I know someone!" she exclaimed.

Jonathan looked at her expectantly, the phone book in front of him forgotten.

"The Hollands were using a private investigator to look for Barb... Murray Something - They mentioned that he had some theories about who could have been responsible in Barb's disappearance. Was going on about the Russians and a government cover-up - anyway... maybe he could help us?"

"Do you have a number for him?" Jonathan asked, flipping through the phone book again. 

Nancy's face fell. "Well, no... and I guess it would be strange to asked Mrs. Holland for his phone number. I think he's from Chicago; I'm sure we could look up his information if we drove there."

Jonathan nodded, considering. "What if we can't locate him?" he asked. "We'll have drove all the way out to Illinois..."

"We'll find someone." Nancy's confidence was hard to argue against. 

+++

By the time Jonathan got home, it was well after dark. Joyce's car was in front of the house and the light in the living room was on, but there was no sign of his mother or brother in the living room or kitchen. 

"Mom?" Jonathan called, glancing toward the backdoor. "Will?"

Joyce's sewing box was still stacked in the hallway and some of Will's crayons were carelessly left on the kitchen table. 

Jonathan frowned, venturing down the hall, passed Joyce's empty room. "Hello?" he called, trying to not let worry and panic creep in. 

When Jonathan entered his brother's room, he found Will and his mother curled up together on the small twin bed. 

Everything was fine. Everyone was safe. That gave Jonathan comfort. 

He retreated back to his room to get some sleep. Before getting onto his own bed, he pulled some clothes from his closet and drawers and tossed them into a bag. They would be gone for at least two days, maybe more. He would grab the rest of his stuff in the morning. 

Stumbling back to bed, Jonathan collapsed onto the worn comforter and quickly drifted off to sleep. 

+++

Jonathan woke up early and finished packing his personal things. He grabbed a quick and icy shower before inhaling a piece of toast. 

He checked on his mother and Will several times over the course of the morning, but they both slept soundly. Not wanting to disturb them, Jonathan sat down at the kitchen table and scribbled out a note to his mother, careful to note list too much detail in case someone from the lab came snooping around their house. 

Mom,

I'm going to be gone for a couple days.  

I'll call when I can. I promise to be safe. 

Love to you and Will. 

-Jonathan 

Satisfied, Jonathan grabbed his bag and headed out the front door. 

He stopped at a gas station to make sure that he had a full tank of gas before driving to Maple Street. He park across the street a few houses down from the Wheeler's. 

He waited, an eye on the clock as he nervously tapped out a beat on the steering wheel until Nancy appeared, walking quickly toward his car. 

Nancy opened the car door and hurriedly threw her bag into the back seat. 

Jonathan nodded at her expectantly. "Hey," he greeted. 

"Hey," Nancy replied, sliding into the passenger seat. "Did you see your mom?" she asked, pulling on her seat belt. 

"No, she was sleeping," Jonathan said, nervously scanning the road, "But I left a note."

Nancy paused for a moment before looking up at Jonathan. "You don't have to do this, you know," she said, sparking deja vu from that night, so long ago. When they stood face-to-face in the dimly colored light, blades pressed against their palms, and Jonathan uttered the same words to Nancy. But there was no other option. This was his choice. And he was committed to it. Just as she had been. 

"Stop saying that," he teased, not helping the smile that tugged at his lips. 

Nancy nodded. "Let's go."

+++

They got to Forrest Hills Park early. Jonathan and Nancy parked several blocks away and then walked a wide perimeter around the park. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary as they walked through fallen leaves, the only sounds the soft chirping of birds in the morning and an occasional snap of a twig under foot. 

Jonathan drove his car into the parking lot, choosing a spot that would allow them to drive away quickly if needed. They walked around the park again, watching as mothers and young children began to arrive to play. Just before 9 o'clock, they found a bench with a decent view of the entire park. 

Nancy sat, nervously clutching her purse as she watched several children play on the park equipment. 

As more and more people began to stroll through the park, Jonathan could feel his skin began to crawl. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. They had no idea what these government people would actually do to them if they got caught. 

Jonathan felt his palms begin to sweat and anxiously rubbed them on his jeans. 

Nancy glanced at her watch. "It's nine," she said softly. 

Jonathan looked around, feeling as though thousands of invisible eyes were upon him. 

"Does she look like Barb?" Jonathan asked.

"What?"

"Mrs. Holland," Jonathan clarified, glancing behind them. "I don't think I've ever met her."

"Oh," Nancy replied, frowning. "No, actually. Barb's mom had dark hair... she's sort of short, doesn't wear glasses. I guess not much like Barb at all..."

"Do you... do you think there's a chance she'll actually should up?"

Nancy slowly shook her head. "I don't think so."

Jonathan drummed his fingers against his knee, trying to get his nerves under control. 

Nancy checked her watch again. "Four past," she whispered under her breath. 

They waited for what seemed to be an eternity. An elderly man with a cane strolled passed them, mumbling to himself. Jonathan was regretting eating anything - he suddenly felt extremely nauseous. This was a horribly bad idea. 

"It's 15 past," Nancy said, checking her watch again.

"Yeah, I know... just... give 'em time," Jonathan muttered. They were here... somewhere... 

As Jonathan was gazing around the parking lot, Nancy gently bumped him with her shoulder. 

"That guy," she said stiffly, staring straight ahead. "There."

Jonathan looked toward the picnic shelter almost directly across from them. There was a man sitting at one of the tables, reading a newspaper. 

"What?"

"He just... just talked to himself," Nancy observed. 

The man was mouthing something and after a second, looked up from his paper, directly at where Nancy and Jonathan were sitting. 

Jonathan's blood ran cold as the hair stood up on the back of his neck. That was a bit unnerving, as if he wasn't already rapidly becoming unstable from the stress of this entire situation. 

Jonathan quickly looked away toward the creek, trying not to be so obvious in his staring. There were a lot more people than they had anticipated at the Park. How many people normally frequented the Park in the middle of the week on a cold morning in November?

It began to feel like everyone at the Park knew why they were there. That everyone was watching them. 

Jonathan's palms would not stop sweating. He dragged his fingers along the denim of his jeans. 

When he looked behind them again, the man feeding ducks at the creek had paused and was staring straight at him. A man walking his dog and two woman jogging through the Park also kept glancing at them. 

Nancy's hand pressed to Jonathan's wrist. "I think we should go."

They had expected agents to be in the Park, but it was unnerving, not knowing who they were - that literally anybody could be watching, spying on you... 

Jonathan nodded and quickly stood, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. Nancy followed as they walked back toward the parking lot and Jonathan's car. 

When Jonathan glanced back to ensure that Nancy was right behind him, she raised wide eyes full of concern to his, her purse clutch tightly to her. But movement behind Nancy caught Jonathan's eye and he saw that a man in a mechanic suit carrying a briefcase was following them. 

Maybe they had underestimated the government. Maybe they had been horribly ill-prepared for this type of situation. Maybe the risk was going to end up being too great a price to pay. 

Jonathan tried to walk as quickly as possible without breaking into a run. He fumbled with the keys in his pocket, trying to make sure he could slide the keys into the ignition and take off.

Nancy and Jonathan got into his car and locked the doors behind them. Jonathan shoved the key into the ignition and turned it, the engine spluttering. He tried to remain calm and twisted the key again. The engine groan in protest and did not turn over. No, no, no, this was not good... 

A sharp rap on Nancy's window made them both jump. The man from the picnic shelter stood next to the car, a lifeless smile on his face. 

"Trouble with your car, miss?" he asked, eyeing Nancy, "I can give you two a lift if you like."

Nancy's head snapped toward Jonathan, her eyes wide and shimmering. "Jonathan." Nancy's voice was thin and wavering. 

Several of the adults who had been watching them in the Park slowly approached the car, surrounding them. There was no going back - this was it. They were trapped. 

Another sharp tap. "You sure you don't need that ride?"

Jonathan's throat had gone dry. 

"I-I don't think we have a choice," Nancy whispered. She glanced at Jonathan before nodding and unlocking her door. She excited the vehicle, her lips pursed and head thrown back in defiance. 

Jonathan slowly climbed out of the car, looking uncertainly at the others standing around the car. They stared at him, their eyes cold. 

"What do you want?" Nancy challenged. 

The man in the maroon jacket smiled thinly. "We just want to talk. Don't make a scene now. Just come with us."

"Fine," Nancy said, crossing her arms over her chest. 

The man, motioned for them to follow, and began walking toward a car on the other side of the parking lot. 

Nancy made to follow and Jonathan quickly moved to her side, a step behind her. 

Jonathan noted that the other adults followed behind them. 

"What about my car?" he asked. 

The man in the maroon jacket turned and extended a hand. "We'll take care of it."

Jonathan stopped, raising an eyebrow, unsure. 

"Keys," the man requested. 

Jonathan glanced at Nancy, who offered him a small nod. Reluctantly, Jonathan turned over his keys. The man tossed the keys to one of the men following them. 

When they reached the black car, the man motioned toward for them to get in. "Back seat," he instructed. 

Jonathan followed Nancy into the back of the car. A man and woman got into the back of the car with them, effectively trapping them. 

Nancy and Jonathan sat, sharing the middle seat, pressed sharply together. Nancy's hand gripped Jonathan's sleeve and he pressed his knee to her leg, trying to offer silent support. 

The man in the maroon jacket slid into the passenger seat and turned, pulling a handgun from his pocket and pointing it straight at them. 

"Now then, let's have a little chat."

"I want to talk to the person in charge," Nancy cut in, her grip on Jonathan's sleeve tightening. 

The driver pulled the car out of the parking lot and began driving out of the city. "Why don't you talk to me?" said the man with the gun.

"I don't think so," Nancy shot back.

"Stubborn, aren't you?" The man shrugged. "Have it your way."

The rest of the drive lapsed in uncomfortable silence, but when they pulled up to the gate at Hawkins Lab, Nancy chanced a glance at Jonathan. 

He nodded slightly as the driver presented his identification to the security guard. 

They were ushered through the gate and proceeded up the drive toward the main entrance. The man next to Jonathan exited the car and the woman seated next to Nancy drew a pistol from her coat. She nodded toward the open car door, motioning with the gun. "Out."

Jonathan and Nancy climbed out of the government vehicle, the agents surrounding them. They were escorted into the building and through a set of doors Jonathan had never been through before. When he had come with Joyce for Will's doctor's appointment, they were always taken to the medical facility to the right. Nancy and Jonathan were taken to the left, passed half a dozen military guards with guns. 

They were taken to an isolated room with a table and two chairs. A long mirror ran along one wall. 

"The man in charge will be with you shortly." The man in the maroon jacket sneered at them from the doorway before pulling the door shut, the heavy click of a bolt locking them inside.

+++

Nancy had been right. Cause a big enough stir and the government will intervene. 

They had been stuck in the observation room for hours. 

Nancy and Jonathan didn't - couldn't - say much to each other; they knew they were being watched through the false glass and recorded by the video camera positioned near the ceiling.

The time was starting to wear on him. Jonathan could not keep his damn foot from shaking. 

Finally, Nancy seemed to have had enough. She stood, looking around angrily, finally settling on the camera in the corner of the room. 

"Hey! Hey, assholes!" she yelled, "Let us out of here!"

At that precise moment, a man opened the door to the observation room. Jonathan stood on instinct, his hands curled into fists.

Jonathan hadn't been to many of Will's doctors appointments at the Lab, but he did recognize the doctor assigned to his brother. 

Doctor Owens had never been unfriendly or unkind to Will, but everyone in Hawkins Lab seemed like they were only telling you half the truth. 

"Oh! Huh," the doctor said, glancing around the cold room. "Not very pleasant in here, is it? Sorry about that. Hospitality's not our strong suit." He shrugged, as if that explained their current situation. "You know, scientists and all."

Jonathan and Nancy stared at the Doctor. 

He sighed and glanced at his watch. "Yeah. Okay," he muttered. "You up for a little walk?" he asked as he turned and walked out of the room. The door stayed open, with no one moving to shut it. "I'm assuming you're behind me," he called out. 

They hurried after the doctor. It felt good to walk, stretch his legs after being cooped up in that room for hours. Nancy clutched her purse, fumbling inside the small bag as they caught up to Doctor Owens.

The doctor talked as they walked. "'Men of science have made abundant mistakes of every kind'," he quoted. "George Sarton said that." He glanced behind him at Nancy and Jonathan. "You guys know who George Sarton is?" He frowned at their silence and blank stares before shrugging. "Doesn't really matter. The point is, mistakes have been made. Yes," he admitted.

"Mistakes?" Nancy shot back, anger and disgust thick in her voice.

Jonathan glanced at the examination rooms and labs lining the hallway as they walked passed. Technicians in lab coats bent over microscopes, analyzing samples of... something. This place was so strange. 

"Yes -" the doctor was saying when Nancy cut him off. 

"You killed Barbara," she accused. 

"Abundant mistakes," Doctor Owens conceded, "But, the men involved with those mistakes, the ones responsible for what happened to your brother and Miss Holland's death, they're gone. They're gone and for better for worse, I'm the schmuck they brought in to make things better." 

They walked passed a lab full of scientists, working in dim light with something that appeared rotten - was that a pumpkin? They were walking too quickly for Jonathan to be sure and he didn't want to get left behind. 

"I can't make things better without your help." 

Nancy scoffed. "You mean without us shutting up?"

Doctor sighed, almost seeming amused. "She's touch, this one. You guys been together long?" he asked, glancing at Jonathan.

"Uh- we're ... not together," Jonathan corrected, feeling his face burn. Nancy's lips were set in a thin line, glaring at the doctor. 

They walked passed several examination rooms. 

"Wanna see what really killed your friend?" Doctor Owens almost seemed excited.

Jonathan frowned, his brow furrowed. There was no way... that little girl had killed the monster, hadn't she? At least, that's what Hopper had told his mother. Jonathan pondered, unsure how any child could have survived in this facility.

The doctor led them through a large metal door. Jonathan shivered. It was drastically darker and colder in this area. A scientist swiveled in his chair, glancing up at them from a control panel. He nodded to the doctor, who clapped a hand on his shoulder. Doctor Owens leaned over, pressing the button on a microphone. 

"Teddy, I brought you an audience today. I hope you don't mind."

On the other side of the thick glass, a man in a large biohazard suit nodded. "More the merrier, sir," came the static reply through the communications system. 

Doctor Owens pointed to the far wall. "I'd call it one hell of a mistake," he quipped.

Jonathan felt his jaw drop. Black and scorched, the rip in the wall was eerily similar to the opening in the woods, the one that Jonathan had pulled Nancy from last year. Jonathan felt Nancy clutch at his sleeve, her fingers trembling. 

The tear... moved... breathed... and a strange light seemed to be emanating from it. 

"See," Doctor Owens mused, "The thing is, we can't seem to erase our mistake... But we can stop it from spreading," the doctor concluded, turning toward them.  

Jonathan shook his head in disbelief. The tear in the wall was so big... How in the world would anyone be able contain this? This... supernatural... thing?

"It's like pulling weeds," Doctor Owens reasoned. "But imagine for a moment, if a foreign state, let's say the Soviets, if they heard about our mistake... do you think they would even consider that a mistake? What if they tried to replicate that?"

That's what he was worried about? The Russian creating another rip, another opening into this dark world? Did he even know care about the monster that had come out of it?

The man in the biohazard suit stomped forward, a large tube in his hand. After a moment, flames erupted from the tip, fire shooting out to engulf the growth. Jonathan could almost hear it scream. 

"The more attention we bring to ourselves, the more... the more people like the Hollands know the truth, the more likely that scenario becomes. You see why I have to stop the truth from spreading too. Just, same as those weeds there. By whatever means necessary."

Doctor Owens threat rang clear. Compromise the project and the government will take action to silence those voices. 

Flames consumed Jonathan's vision. He could almost feel the heat through the thick glass. 

"So, we understand each other now, don't we?"

+++

Jonathan and Nancy were escorted from the building by several armed guards. In the lobby, they were met by the man in the maroon jacket. 

"Nice chat?" he asked, his lip curling. 

Jonathan glared at him but held his tongue. They needed to get out of here and he wasn't going to risk it by getting into a fight with the guy. Jonathan could see his car parked at the end of the walk, looking no worse for the wear. 

Once they reached the edge of the sidewalk, the agent turned and extended his hand to Jonathan. 

"Have a nice day," the older man said, dropping the car keys into Jonathan's hand. 

Jonathan hurried around and tested the key. Engine roared to life without hesitation. Jonathan glanced at Nancy, who frowned back at him.

Jonathan glanced at the man still standing on the walk, watching them intently. Jonathan shifted the car into drive and carefully pulled through to the road. 

Once they had cleared the lab and were back on the open road, Nancy pulled the tape recorder from her purse and rewound the tape. It had recorded their conversation with Doctor Owens clearly enough. Nancy placed the tape several times, rewinding and playing again, listening to the doctor's words. 

"You still wanna do this?" Jonathan felt stupid for asking, but had to make sure. They were playing a very dangerous game. 

She seemed intent, grounded, confident in their next step. Nancy turned to him and nodded, eyes on fire. "Let's burn that lab to the ground."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, road trip to Chicago!


	5. Sense of Doubt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see first chapter for disclaimer

Jonathan had never been outside of the state of Indiana before. In fact, he rarely had traveled away from Hawkins. He had been to Indianapolis several times, the most recently being last year when he had gone to his father's house, searching for Will. 

They were able to obtain the address for the Chicago Sun-Times off the editorial section from a copy of the paper they picked up at a gas station on the state line. Nancy also grabbed a map of Illinois and plotted out their route into Chicago. 

It was a long drive into the city. Nancy brought a couple of her school  books and attempted to do some homework assignments while Jonathan drove, but got car sick before too long. 

She rolled down the window and rested her head against her arm, breathing in the cold air. Jonathan glanced at her, her eyes closed, hair whipped by the wind and felt his heart tighten in his chest. He was head-over-heels for this girl. He was such a idiot, but he couldn't help himself - Nancy pulled him in. 

She opened her eyes and caught him staring at her. They held eye contact for several seconds before a horn blaring made Jonathan jerk the wheel, turning the car back into correct lane of traffic. 

Nancy hit his arm, hand on her chest. "You scared me!"

Jonathan's face burned. "Sorry," he mumbled. 

A deafening quiet lapsed for several long minutes. 

Nancy adjusted and placed her feet on the dashboard. "So..." she began, glancing at Jonathan. "Have you thought about college?"

Jonathan shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. "I mean, yeah, but it's not very likely that I'll go."

"Why not?" Nancy asked, sitting up and turning toward him. "You're smart enough - your grades are almost as good as mine."

Jonathan's lips twitched. "Not nearly as good as your grades."

He could almost feel Nancy roll her eyes. "You know what I mean," she scolded.

"It's just... not really in the cards... at least not for me." He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. Please don't make him say it...

"Well," Nancy said slowly, thinking. "If you could go... go anywhere to college, where would it be?"

"New York," Jonathan replied immediately, smiling. "NYU."

"New York, really?" Nancy asked. "I've always wanted to go to New York City," she mused. 

"How about you?" Jonathan question, chancing a glance at Nancy. "Any big college dreams?"

"I-I don't know..." Nancy sounded troubled. "It ... it was something that Barb and I ... we used talk about - what we would do after high school, that we would get out of Hawkins and have all kinds of adventures together..." she broke off, sniffling. 

Jonathan glanced at her and saw Nancy run her sleeve across her cheek. "Sorry," she mumbled. 

He tentatively reached out and placed a hand softly on her shoulder. "It's okay," he tried  to comfort her, "it's okay talk about her and be sad and miss her."

Nancy nodded, looking away. 

Jonathan returned his attention to the steering wheel and the road. 

Nancy sniffled quietly beside him for several minutes before sighing. "I just really miss her," she whispered. 

Jonathan looked over. Nancy's eyes were shining with tears. 

"I miss her so much and what's worse is I made her come with me to Steve's and I was so horrible to her just before... before..."

"Hey," Jonathan said, reaching to touch her elbow. "Hey, don't blame yourself - it's not your fault, Nancy. Miss Barb, be sad that she's gone, but don't blame yourself..."

Nancy stared at her hands clasped tightly in her lap. 

"Where would you have gone?"

Nancy glanced up at Jonathan, confused. "What?"

"You said that you and Barb were planning your adventure outside of Hawkins - where would you have gone?"

"Oh... um. Well, California. Los Angeles."

Jonathan smiled at the idea. "Planning on stalking Tom Cruise?" he teased. 

"No!" Nancy said, laughing. "But I'd have a better chance of meeting him in LA than in Hawkins!" 

"Fair enough," Jonathan conceded. "Any where else?"

"We had talked about going to Chicago, Dallas, maybe Miami?"

"Well, I'm happy to help you get to Chicago, at least," he teased, glad to see her smile. 

+++

It took several hours to drive to Chicago from Hawkins. They arrived at the Chicago Sun-Times offices just before 5 o'clock, the sun quickly sinking in the late autumn-sky.  

Nancy was a good liar. She was able to convince the security guard that they were there for an internship and had been directed to report to Human Resources. The security guard issued them visitor badges and instructed them to report to the 10th floor of the building. 

Jonathan followed Nancy to the elevator bank and they waited with a small group of people for the elevator to arrive. 

Once they had arrived at the 10th floor, Nancy and Jonathan wandered for a bit before finding the proper department. A young man with shoulder-length blonde hair sat at a desk, his feet propped up on the desk. He jumped when they entered the office, quickly pulling his feet off the desk. 

"Hi," he greeted, standing. "How can I help you?"

"Hi," Nancy returned, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. "I'm doing a research paper for my journalism class at the university and I need to speak with a journalist."

The young man nodded, looking Nancy up and down. "Sure, we have a lot of those here -"

"No, well, you see, a lot of kids in my class are interviewing journalists from local papers, but the teacher - professor - really doesn't want us using the same sources, you know? I bet it gets really boring to read twenty papers on the same journalist. Anyway, I'm more interested in investigative journalism. That's real reporting, don't you think?"

"Sure, I guess," the man shrugged. He retrieved a large book from behind the counter and began flipping through the pages. "Let's see... we have a Thomas Melton, William Tyson -"

"Sorry," Nancy interrupted, "I kind of had someone particular in mind. Can you look up a specific reporter?"

"Yeah."

"I've read articles from a journalist who reported for the Chicago Sun-Times, but I haven't seen his articles in a while. His name is Murray Bauman. Is he still around?"

"Doesn't sound familiar," the man muttered. 

"Could you check?" Nancy asked. "Please?"

"Alright... hold on for a minute." He disappeared into a backroom and returned with a large folder. "Ah. Well, he hasn't been active with the paper for several years now. Looks like he left to do some independent work."

"Do you have an address? I'd really like to get an interview with him for my research paper."

"Okay, sure ... wow, looks like this guy has quite a history with the paper... are you sure you want to interview this guy?" The man looked up. "Seems like he kind of went off the deep end before he left."

Nancy shrugged and smiled. "Aren't all the brilliant ones a little crazy?"

"Investigative journalism, huh?"

"Yupe."

"This is the forwarding address he left with us." The man scribbled down an address and handed the paper to Nancy. "I'm Gary, by the way."

"Nancy."

"Hi Nancy," Gary smiled at her before glancing at Jonathan. "This your boyfriend?"

"Oh-" Nancy glanced back at Jonathan, her face red. Jonathan shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away. "I- um, no, we're not together like that," Nancy finished, sounding oddly uncertain. 

"Well, in that case," Gary said, pulling out another piece of paper and handing it to Nancy. "In case you ever need help with another paper - or just want to grab a cup of coffee."

"Oh... thanks," Nancy nodded. "And thank you for your help, Gary. I really appreciate it."

"Good luck on your paper. And seriously - if you ever want to get coffee..."

"Sure," Nancy said, walking toward Jonathan. She almost pushed Jonathan into the hallway and hurried toward the elevator. 

Once they were back in the car, Nancy pulled out the map of Illinois. "Sesser... Sesser... Sesser... here it is!" she exclaimed, pointing at a place South of Chicago on the map. She smiled at Jonathan. "Are you hungry?" she asked. 

They ended up eating burgers at a little diner called O'Charley's in downtown Chicago. They split a basket of fries and swapped tomatoes and pickles. 

Nancy ordered a strawberry milkshake with her burger and insisted that Jonathan share with her once she found out that he had never had one before. 

Nancy studied the map as they ate, calculating out how many miles they were from Sesser. "Well," she concluded, wiping her fingers on a paper napkin. "We're a couple hours away from Sesser. I think about four or five."

"Might not be the best idea to show up to this guy's house in the middle of the night," Jonathan commented, chewing on a french fry. 

Nancy shrugged, folding the map and placing it back in her bag. "We can at least get a couple hours behind us, be closer and get an early morning start."

"Okay." Jonathan nodded. "Want to get going?"

"Yeah," Nancy nodded, taking another sip of her strawberry milkshake. 

Jonathan and Nancy drove out of Chicago as night fell. They quickly left the bright lights of the city behind and traveled South down the highway. Jonathan made an attempt to educate Nancy on good music, but feared that she was a lost cause. She did seem to tolerate The Smiths though, so he put in a cassette and they listened to music as they rode down the dark road. 

"How has Will been doing?" Nancy asked. 

Jonathan considered for a moment. "He's been doing alright. He... sometimes he has there... night terrors. They've been getting worse recently. The doctors think it's because the time of year, the anniversary date triggers memories. Anyway. Sometimes he doesn't sleep that good. He wakes up in a panic. He must have had one last night because my mom stayed with him in his room." 

"I'm sorry to hear that," Nancy said softly. 

Jonathan nodded, drumming his thumbs against the steering wheel. "How's Mike?"

"Mike? Oh, he's fine, annoying as ever."

Jonathan's silence made Nancy glance over. "What?" she insisted.

"Nothing, just... Will said that Mike... sometimes .. he'll be on their old radio channel, but he's - he's trying to contact her - the little girl -"

"Eleven?" Nancy asked. 

Jonathan nodded. 

Nancy was silent for a while. "I-I didn't know... Last year... I said no more secrets, I said that I would be there for him... and I haven't been... I mean, I knew he cared about her. But she's gone... she disappeared."

"Yeah, but maybe she didn't," Jonathan offered. "What if - what if she's been stuck on the Other Side - the Upside Down, whatever the boys called it - what if she's been trapped over there this entire time? Mike said he was able to get through to Will once on the radio when we was on the Other Side. Maybe Mike thinks he can get through to her too."

Nancy wrapped her arms around herself, seeming troubled. "But the Lab - they've been going back inside - if she was there, don't you think they would have found her by now?"

"Maybe," Jonathan said, "but maybe not... she was able to live in your parent's basement for a week without anyone knowing. Maybe she's just really good at hiding."

"Yeah, maybe, I guess." Nancy chewed on her lip. "It - just, it was horrible in there... I can't imagine anyone living... there... for over a year..." She shivered. "Wherever she is, I hope she's okay," Nancy mused. 

Jonathan nodded. "Yeah, me too."

Just after 10 o'clock, Jonathan pulled off the highway looking for a hotel. They found the Motor Motel off Hwy 57 just outside of Mattoon, Illinois. 

They walked into the small lobby, which smelled of cigarettes and grease. A woman sat behind the counter, eating from a bag of Hardee's fries while she watched a small TV.

Jonathan and Nancy stood for a moment, expectantly waiting for her to acknowledge their presence. 

When she didn't so much as look at them, Nancy tentatively rang the bell on the counter. 

The clerk still didn't so much as glance their way. 

"We'd like a... uh, a room?" Nancy requested, unsure. 

"We got those," the older woman croaked, popping a fry into her mouth. "You want a single or a double?" She asked, finally looking their way, her eyes skimming over Jonathan. 

"Double," he quickly interjected at the same time Nancy answered, both taking a step away from the other. 

His faced burned with embarrassment. He was certain that this would only make the night all the more awkward. 

"Uh Huh," mumbled the clerk, sucking at her teeth. "$13.83."

Nancy pulled out her wallet and handed the woman $15. 

The clerk took the money off the counter and flipped open her reservation book. After a moment, she scribbled in the book and retrieved a key from the wall. 

She slid the key under the glass. "Room 115. Check out is by 10 a.m."

Jonathan grabbed the room key and shifted his bag to his shoulder. 

Nancy remained at the counter, staring at the woman. "Um, can I... uh... can I get my change?" she asked. 

The woman stared at her for a moment before pulling a lockbox from under the counter. She put a dollar and some change on the counter.

Nancy carefully collected it and slipped it into her front pocket.

"Thanks," she mumbled, grabbing her bag and following Jonathan outside. 

"That was weird," she huffed as they walked their way down the row of hotel rooms. 

Jonathan nodded, before he pointed at the next door. 

"This is us," he said softly. The key stuck in the lock, but after some jiggling, he was able to get the door to open. He gave a sigh of relief, glad he wouldn't have to go back to the lobby anytime soon. 

The room was small and dark and smelled slightly of mildew. The carpets were orange and brown, left over from a remodel in the 70's. The bedding, telephone, lamp shades and just about every other accent piece in the room was a mustard yellow color. 

Nancy hesitated behind him in the doorway, seeming to feel just as uncomfortable as he did. 

"Take your pick," he offered, gesturing toward the beds, hoping to lighten the mood. 

Nancy smiled slightly. "Thanks," she said, before setting her bag down on the bed closet to the door. 

Jonathan closed and locked the door behind them and then sat down on the spare bed. 

"I'm going to freshen up," Nancy said, removing a small blue and yellow striped case and some clothes from her bag. She stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. 

Jonathan took the opportunity to change into his bed clothes. 

Nancy returned after a few minutes, dressed in silky pink pajamas. She climbed into the bed and under the covers. 

Jonathan mirrored her movement. They sat in awkward silence for a while, the ease of their conversation from the car ride gone. 

Jonathan glanced at the clock on the table between the two beds. The time read 10:47 pm. They might as well get some sleep. 

"Nance," Jonathan started, tentatively reached toward the wall lamps. "Uh, on or off?"

A smile flitted across Nancy's face. She hummed, smiling. 

"What?" Jonathan asked curiously.

"Nothing," Nancy muttered, still smiling. "Just... deja vu."

Then Jonathan remembered. Nancy had demanded that he sleep beside her that night - the night everything became all too real. When he had pulled her from the tree, pulled her from the other side. They had laid next to each other, side-by-side without touching, Nancy with the covers pulled up to her chest and Jonathan beside her on top the blankets. That night, the lights had stayed on. 

"Yeah," he breathed, his hand dropping from the light switch as he let himself get lose in memories. 

"Don't you think it's weird?"

"What?" Jonathan snapped out of his reverie. 

Nancy was staring down at her hands, clasped in her lap. "How we only seem to hang out when the world's about to end?"

That was a little unfair. They hung out at school. Jonathan saw Nancy at the Wheeler's house when he picked Will up sometimes. This wasn't like last time. Will was safe at home. No one was missing. They were just trying to get the truth out there. 

"It's not going to end," he rebutted. 

Nancy scoffed softly, shrugging. "Feels like it," she sighed. 

Suddenly, she leaned over, extending her hand onto the table between the two beds. "Still have yours?" she asked, smirking. 

Jonathan couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. He leaned down, offering his hand to her. 

"Yeah." He laid his hand next to hers on the table, skin touching. Funny, he had never noticed, but from this angle, it almost looked as if their scars were connected, a single line of raised, pink scar tissue. 

"Mmm," Nancy examined their outstretched palms. "Yeah, mine's bigger," she teased.

"Congratulations," Jonathan laughed, glancing up at Nancy.

Nancy smiled, her eyes sparkling. "Thanks."

Jonathan couldn't seem to look away. She was so beautiful and so incredibly brave - her eyes shone and his stomach flipped nervously. God, what he would give to kiss her... 

But as the moment dragged on, Nancy's smile began to fad and her expression turned serious. Finally, she looked down and pulled her hand away. 

Jonathan's hand felt cold, missing the warmth of her skin pressed to his, but he withdrew his hand as well. 

Nancy shifted, settling down against the hotel pillow. 

Jonathan leaned back, sighing. 

"What happened?" Nancy whispered. Jonathan saw that she was still staring at the scar on her palm. 

"What do you mean?"

She raised her eyebrows slightly. "To us?"

Us. To us. To us? 

Jonathan's face fell. To us? There had been an us? He had thought that maybe... that perhaps at one time there could have been... but Nancy had been with Steve... 

"After everything," she pressed. "You just... disappeared."

Jonathan stared at Nancy. That wasn't what happened. He hadn't disappeared... he had had different priorities, different concerns immediately after everything that had happened last year. Will had needed him. And before he could even think about anything else, Nancy was holding Steve's hand again in the hallways at school. 

"Will needed me," he said simply. Because it was the truth. 

Nancy gave a small nod. 

"And Steve..."

"I waited," she said, eyes searching his. 

"Yeah, like only a month." 

The look on Nancy's face told him that he had said the wrong thing. That stung.

But it was too late, he couldn't take it back. And besides, it was true. 

Nancy rolled over, turning away from Jonathan. She pulled the covers over her shoulders, shielding herself from his gaze. 

How could he make her understand? He had never disappeared. He had always been right there. It was just... different for him. He had needed time to process, to sort things out in his head. 

"I want them off," she stated, her voice dull and flat. 

He sighed, a strange heaviness settling on his soul. Why couldn't she understand? It was useless trying to explain any more tonight; he knew she wouldn't listen. 

Frustrated, with her, with himself, with the entire situation, he snapped off the light. He rolled onto his side, staring at the wall rather than look across the small expanse at her. The red light from the vacancy sigh glowed dully, reminding him too much of the tear in the lab. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get the image out his mind and tried to force sleep to come. 

Of course, sleep didn't come easy to either of them. They both tossed and turned throughout the night. At some point, Jonathan finally drifted off to sleep. 

His dreams were unsettling. He was trapped in a dark, winding tunnel. He tried to find a way out, a way to escape, but felt like he was walking in an endless circle. Frustrated, he struck at the wall. A small voice cried out and he frozen. 'Will?'

There was no reply, but the thin voice still hung in the air. 

'Will?' Jonathan called again, taking a step forward. Something caught his foot and he came crashing to the ground. He sank straight through, swallowed up by the earth. He was left in utter darkness. Something moved behind him and his skin crawled. He couldn't see anything, couldn't breath, couldn't move. A faceless creature stood before him. Bright, red lightning pierced the sky and suddenly he was alone.

'Jonathan' a voice whispered behind him. 

Jonathan turned around, fights raised, but there was nothing behind him. 

"Jonathan," the voice repeated, and the ground began to tremble. 

"Jonathan."

He woke to Nancy gently shaking him awake. His heart still pounded in his chest from the dream. 

"Come on," she said, refusing to meet his eye. "We need to get going."

+++ 

The address for Murray Bauman ended up being in an Industrial park on the outskirts of Sesser, Illinois. 

Nancy kept double checking the address. "I mean... this is the address that the Chicago Sun-Times gave us," 

"Are you positive this is the right place?"

"3833. Yeah," she said as they stared at the warehouse in front of them. There were several satellite dishes and radio antennas set up around the entrance. The building numbers were painted on the side of the metal structure. 

Jonathan shrugged, shutting off the car. "All right," he said, trying to be hopeful. 

They approached a rusted metal door, which had "Keep Door Closed" spray-painted on it. 

Next to the door was a newer-looking metal box with what looked like a door bell. 

Jonathan cautiously pushed the button, which buzzed horribly. 

"Look at the camera," came a man's voice through static. Jonathan looked around, confused. "The camera," repeated the man. 

Jonathan reached to push the buzzer again. "What camera?" he asked. 

"Not the loud speaker." The man's annoyance was hard to miss. "Above you, to the right," he said impatiently. 

Jonathan and Nancy looked above the door and sure enough, a small camera was pointed straight at them. 

After a moment, a lock shifted behind the rusted metal door and it swung open, revealing a man in an undershirt and dressing gown. 

He looked sweaty and suspicious. He gave both of them a once-over. 

"Nancy Wheeler. Jonathan Byers. You two are a long way from home."

The pair stared at the man before them. How in the world did he know who they were?

He stepped aside, motioning for them to come inside. 

Nancy glanced at Jonathan nervously before quickly slipping inside. Jonathan glanced uneasily at the middle-aged man before following Nancy inside the dark space. They were lead down a concrete hallway through a set of yellow metal door into what appeared to be a living space. Jonathan noted that about a dozen television sets were stacked against the far wall. 

"Well," said the man, who was presumably Murray Bauman. "I hope you didn't come all this way to tell me about the bear in the Harrington kid's backyard." Murray turned on them, making Jonathan stop short. "I've heard that one already." He grinned and then motioned for them to continue to follow him. He lead them through more rooms stacked full of odds and ends before pulling open a large, rolling door. 

"Take a look," he said proudly. "Go ahead, don't be shy."

A bulletin board pull of documents, photographs and scribbled notes were connected through a network of red yarn. 

Jonathan recognized the missing poster he had made for Will, newspaper clippings and a sketch of what resembled the little girl - Eleven. Above her picture was written 'Russian?'

A map of Hawkins was tapped to the wall, areas marked and plotted. Next to it was a corkboard full of pictures of Barb, newspaper clippings about her disappear and a timeline of what events had taken place on the day of Barbara Holland's disappearance. 

"I followed up on 200 tips, most bogus, but that's how these things always go, okay? I know every last step Barbara took that day, every last person she talked to. The answer to what happened to your friend, it's up here somewhere. I assure you that. I just gotta connect the right dots."

Jonathan saw Nancy study the wall, her eyes skimming over everything. 

"Timeline's wrong," Nancy stated. 

"I'm sorry?" Murray stated in a voice void of amusement. 

"Your timeline is wrong," Nancy repeated, turning to the man. "And the girl with the buzzed hair, she's not Russian. She's from Hawkins Lab. Her name is Eleven."

Jonathan couldn't help but smile at the perplexed look falling over Murray Bauman's face. "You might wanna sit down for this."

They told Murray about the last year. About Will's disappearance and then Barb's. About how Nancy had caught a glimpse of the creature in the woods behind Steve's house and how she and Jonathan had tried to track it down the next day. They told him about the Other Side and how Nancy had been there. They told him of their trap and the ensuing encounter with the creature in which they had injured, but not killed it. The little girl - Eleven - she had killed the creature at the Middle School, in front of the boys. And after that, Hopper and Joyce Byers had found Will and gotten him out, but discovered that Barb had died. The Lab had insisted on covering everything up and had a report that Will had gotten lost in the wood and the coroner had made a mistake at the morgue and that Barb Holland had run away. They told him about their plan to expose the Hawkins Lab. And then Nancy pulled out the recorder and played the tape for Murray. 

"You see why I have to stop the truth from spreading too," Doctor Owens' voice same through the soft static of the tape. "Just the same as those weeds there. By whatever means necessary."

"So," Nancy ventured when the tape was over. "Is it enough?"

Jonathan watched Bauman, slightly concerned. The older man seemed dazed, unfocused. 

At Nancy's voice, he glanced up. "The tape recording, is it enough? Is... is it incriminating?" she asked, hopeful. 

Suddenly, and without explanation, Murray Bauman rose from his sofa and walked out of the room. 

Nancy looked at Jonathan, her eyes wide with confusion. 

They followed Murray from room to room into his small kitchen where he poured himself a glass of vodka. Funny, how a man who thought the Russians were infiltrating America, would drink a Russian alcohol. 

"What are you doing?" Nancy exclaimed, flustered. 

"Thinking," Murray snapped. 

"With vodka?" she shot back. 

"It's a central nervous system depressant. So yes, with vodka."

Murray pushed passed them and stopped at a stack of vinyl records. He pulled a record from the sleeve and set it on the turntable. 

Nancy sighed with exasperation. "Music? Really?"

Murray seemed equally as annoyed. "Yes. It helps me..."

"What?" Jonathan interjected, "Think?"

Billy Holiday began to croon from the speakers, soft jazz filling the room. Murray tilted his head back and sighed with pleasure. 

Jonathan wrinkled his nose. This guy was weird. Probably a genius, sure, but weird. 

"How long is this going to take?" Nancy demanded as she marched after Murray as he began to pace. 

"Longer if you keep talking," he yelled back. 

Nancy huffed in annoyance. "Is the tape incriminating or not? It's a simple question."

"Oh, ho-ho, HA!" Murray barked out. "There's nothing simple about it. Nothing simple about anything you've told me."

"You don't believe us, do you?" Jonathan said, feeling defeated. 

"I believe you," Murray corrected, "but that's not the problem. You don't need me to believe you. You need them to believe you."

Jonathan raised his eyebrows. "Them?"

"THEM," Murray said, gesturing widely. "Them, with a capital 'T'." He walked toward his wall of televisions, pointing. "Your priest, your postman, your teacher, the world at large!" He scoffed. "They won't believe any of this."

"That's why we made the tape!" Nancy exclaimed. 

"Oh. That's easy to bury," Murray said dismissively. "Easy."

"He admits it," Nancy challenged, "You heard it! He admit culpability!" 

"You're being naïve, Nancy!"

Nancy took a step back, blinking. 

"Those people, they're not wired like me and you, okay? They don't spend their lives trying to get a look at what's behind the curtain. They like the curtain," he said, chuckling darkly. "It provides them stability, comfort, definition. This... this would open the curtain, and open the curtain behind that curtain, okay? So the minute someone with an ounce of authority calls bullshit, everyone will nod their heads and say, 'See? Ha! I know it! It was bullshit.' That is - if you even get their attention at all."

"So you're saying we did all of this for nothing?" Nancy sounded desperate, defeated. 

"I'm saying, I'm thinking!" Murray yelled back. He took a sip of his vodka and grimaced. He stomped back to the kitchen, muttering to himself. 

Jonathan stared back after him. Murray made to pour himself another drink. Jonathan sighed. "This is ridiculous."

"That's it," Murray muttered. "That's it!"

"What's it?" Nancy asked, returning to the kitchen. 

"It's just too strong. Too strong."

Murray continued to mutter to himself as he poured some water into his cup. He took a sip and smacked his lips. "Better," he stated, adding some more water. 

Jonathan rolled his eyes. This was a giant waste of time. 

"We water it down," Nancy breathed. 

Jonathan turned, confused. What was he missing?

"Precisely," Murray said, a shit-eating-grin plastered on his face. 

"Wait, what?" Jonathan asked. 

"Your story. We moderate it. Just like this drink here," he said, grabbing another set of glasses from the cabinet. "We make it more tolerable, " he explained, pouring some vodka into the new glasses. "Perhaps Barbara was exposed to some dangerous toxins," he suggested, pouring some water in with the vodka. 

"A leak from the lab," Nancy jumped in, clutching the back on a kitchen chair in excitement. "Like, like, Three Mile Island, or something."

Jonathan frowned. What was going on?

"Something scary, but familiar!" Murray agreed. 

He placed two glassed in front of Jonathan and Nancy, as if to emphasize his point. "Close enough that it hits the man right where it hurts."

"And those assholes that killed Barb..." Nancy said, leaning forward to pick up a glass of vodka. 

"They'll go down," Murray promised. 

Jonathan slowly picked up the glass in front of him, glancing at Nancy. She grinned, triumphant. 

"Let's take these asshole down."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support! I hope you enjoy!


	6. Breaking Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see first chapter for regular disclaimer
> 
> *Please note that the Rating has been changed from Teen to Mature, specifically for content in this chapter ... for reasons :)

They spent the next several hours editing the tape. Murray had top-of-the line equipment and was able to cut and piece together the conversation from Hawkins Lab. There was quite a bit of arguing between Nancy and Murray on what should be left in and what needed to be cut out. Once they had perfected it, they made copies and Murray put his rolodex of former journalist contacts at various news papers around the Midwest to use. 

Nancy typed up a letter on Murray's word processor and printed multiple copies to add to the envelopes. 

Jonathan volunteered to make a run to a local deli, just to get out of that place. He was very grateful that Murray was helping them, but Jesus Chris - He was started to get on his nerves. 

They ended up making eight tapes in total to mail out - one to Murray's former employer, the Chicago Sun-times, then to other major regional papers - the Chicago Tribune, the Star Tribune, the Detroit Free Press, the St. Paul Pioneer Press, the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, the Kansas City Star and the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. Murray had guaranteed them that at least one of the papers would pick up the story - at the very least, they would send someone to investigate the tape. 

When they were finally done, Jonathan and Nancy all but collapsed on the couch in Murray's basement. 

Murray disappeared upstairs before reappearing with a new bottle of vodka, pouring them all a fresh glass. 

"To taking down the man," Murray toasted. They all raised their glasses.

"To taking down the man," Nancy and Jonathan repeated, toasting their glasses. 

The vodka burned all the way down his throat, despite being cut with water. 

"Commie bastards sure know how to make a spirit, am I right?" Murray slurred. 

Jonathan set his glass down, but Nancy knocked back the rest of her drink. 

Murray began to pour Nancy another drink as she objected. "Oh no, no, no, we - we can't..."

"Yeah," Jonathan agreed. "No, I've got to drive."

"Drive?!" Murray stared at him in disbelief. "What, tonight?"

Jonathan glanced at Nancy, who looked unsure. 

"Our parents -" she began and Jonathan nodded. His mom was going to be worried sick. 

"- Would be proud if they knew what you were up to," Murray finished. "Just tell 'em you're at Tammy's or Dawn's or whoever's and take my guest room."

Jonathan's cheeks burned. He glanced at Nancy, who was staring at the ceiling, her lips slightly open as if to form a response that wasn't there. 

Jonathan leaned toward her. "I mean... do-do you want to stay?" he whispered.

Nancy shrugged, her face rosy from the liquor. "Well, it is pretty late," she admitted. 

Jonathan nodded. "Okay. Uh, could I use the sofa?" Jonathan asked, turning back toward Bauman. 

Murray stared at him for a moment, perplexed. "Okay, I'm confused," he drawled slowly. "What's going on here? A lover's quarrel?"

Jonathan laughed uncomfortably. How many times were they going to have to explain this? "No, no, I mean, we're just friends."

"Friends," Nancy agreed, nodding. "Friends."

Murray burst into a fit of laughter. "You've told me a lot of shockers today, but that - that is the first lie."

"It's not a lie," Nancy interjected. 

"No?" Bauman replied, eyeing Jonathan. 

He was frozen, his heart hammering in his chest. He refused to meet Murray's eye line. 

"You're young, attractive," Murray prodded. Jonathan would have loved to punch him right in his smug face. "You've got chemistry, history, plus the real shit - shared trauma."

"Trust issues, am I right?" Murray guessed, staring stare at Jonathan. "Something to do with your dad."

"What?!" Jonathan couldn't believe this guy? What did his father have to do with his ability to be in a relationship? "No, I mean, my dad's -"

"-an asshole," Nancy cut him off, finishing his sentence. 

Jonathan slowly turned and looked at the girl beside him. The alcohol was making her more vocal than normal. 

What did either of them know about anything?! He didn't have trust issues... His stomach felt warm and slightly queasy. 

"Hmm," Murray breathed. "It is a curse to see so clearly... You -" he continued, pointing at Nancy. "You're harder to read. Probably, like everyone, afraid of what would happen if you accepted yourself for who you really are..."

Jonathan was brought back to their argument in the woods behind Steve Harrington's house last year. She had called him a pretentious creep and he had lashed back, stung by her words, trying to hurt her. 'Nancy Wheeler, she's not just another suburban girl who thinks she's rebelling by doing exactly what every other suburban girl does until that phase passes and they marry some boring one-time jock who now works sales, and they live out a perfectly boring little life at the end of a cul-de-sac. Exactly like their parents who they thought were so depressing, but now, hey, they get it.'

"And retreated back to the safety of...of..." Murray glance his way and snap his fingers at him. "Name?  Name?"

"Steve," the name tumble out of Jonathan's mouth before he could stop himself. 

Nancy's head snapped in his direction, her brow crumpled, her expression one of betrayal. Jonathan slowly crossed his arms, his lips in a hard line. Well, he wasn't going to take it back; it was the truth anyway. 

"Oooh, Steve," Murray said, testing the name. "Steve - we like Steve." He nodded mockingly. 

"Yes," Nancy challenged. 

"But we don't love Steve."

"What?" Nancy said at the same time Jonathan's brain registered Murray's words. "No," she stammered, "we... I mean... I do..." but it sounded like Nancy was trying to convince herself, not just Murray. But maybe it was the alcohol that was fogging Jonathan's mind. 

Murray snapped, pointing an accusing finger at Nancy. "There it is, ladies and germs, the second lie of the evening."

A horrible, unease silence settled on their little group.

"So!" Murray adjusted himself in his lounge chair. "How'd I do?"

Jonathan fixated on the wall, not wanting to make eye contact. 

Murray chuckled. "My goodness," he teased. "You two are adorable, aren't you?"

Murray grabbed the bottle of vodka as Jonathan and Nancy nervously glanced at the other. 

Their host groaned and then roast from his chair, taking the bottle of vodka with him. "Listen," he cleared his throat. "There's a pull-out sofa in my study, if you want it, but if I were you -" he paused for dramatic effect, lingering at the bottom of the staircase. "I'd cut the bullshit and share the damn bed. Good night," he chuckled before disappearing upstairs. 

Nancy stared after Murray, her look furious and her face flushed. 

After several agonizing minutes, Jonathan rose. "I'll sleep on the pull-out," he told Nancy. "I'll go get our stuff from the car." And then he turned and all but ran out of the room. 

He bounded up the stairs two at a time and hurried through the security door, making sure to prop it open while he retrieved their belongings from the trunk of his car. It was well after 11 o'clock and the moon was high in the dark autumn sky. He slung Nancy's bag over his shoulder and paused, slumping against the car. He ran a hand over his face, trying to sort all of this out. Murray was full of shit, that's all there was to it. 

Nancy was still with Steve, wasn't she? Or was she? Had they broken up? They had gotten into a fight, but who the hell knew what that meant. Jonathan sighed, staring up at the stars. Murray was crazy. It was stupid to put too much stock into anything he said. 

Jonathan shook his head and leaned back down to grab his bag before slamming the trunk and making his way back into the warmth of Murray's make-shift home. 

Nancy was still sitting on the couch downstairs, slowly twirling her ring on her finger. She glanced up at Jonathan and then quickly looked away, her cheeks turning crimson. 

"Uh-" Jonathan stammered. "Here's your bag." He held it out to her, making sure to keep as much distance between them as possible.

"Thank you," she murmured, collecting the bag and pulling it to her chest.

She continued to sit, staring at the floor until Jonathan shifted uneasily. "Well... good night, Nancy," he said softly.

"Night," she nodded, clutching the bag to her chest and hurrying to Murray's spare bedroom. 

Jonathan watched as she closed the door behind her and sighed. He wasn't going to get much sleep tonight, he just knew it. 

He slid open the door to Murray's study and set his bag to the side. He pulled the cushions off the sofa and carefully unfolded the pull-out mattress. The metal and springs creaked and groaned very loudly. 

He tried to smooth out the sheets and coughed at the puff of dust that rose into the air. He pulled a blanket from the back of the sofa and draped it over the bed. 

Jonathan pulled a pair of pajama pants from his bag and changed clothes. He sat down on the creaky mattress and sighed heavily. 

Murray was crazy - not 100% crazy, he was sort of a genius after all, but he was just crazy enough that most adults wrote him off - Hopper sure did. 

Jonathan crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to let Murray's words get to him, but he could not get them out of his head. 

What the hell did Murray mean, he had trust issue? 

"Trust issues," he scoffed. Sure, his dad was a jerk and he hadn't had a very stable male figure in his life growing up. His father and mother had been fighting ever since he could remember. Lonnie was not the role model he should look up to, but that doesn't mean he was trust issues...

Well, there was that one time that Lonnie had forgotten Jonathan and Will at a ball game and they had sat for hours and hours waiting until their mother finally came to get them. Come to think of it, that had happened on more than one occasion... 

There had been the occasional beating. Thank God that Will had been spared from most of that. 

And there was the time that Lonnie had intended to try to make money off of Will's 'death' - and they hadn't seen their father since Will had 'come back to life'. 

"Trust issues," Jonathan repeated, frowning. "I don't have... trust issues...

Hadn't Lonnie always told Jonathan he wasn't good enough? That he wasn't enough of a man? That he was a pussy? Boys don't cry - 'you stop that or I'll give you something to cry about'. 

Not good enough.

Never good enough...

Jonathan neck twitched. Okay. Maybe he had -some- trust issues... 

If Murray was right about him... then... maybe... maybe he was right about Nancy too? Maybe Nancy wasn't in love with Steve after all... 

Jonathan fought with himself for a long while before he got up enough courage to force himself off the pull-out sofa. He tried to quietly open the sliding metal door so that he could see if Nancy was awake. He wanted to talk to her, see if there was any way that Murray may have been right - that they did have chemistry, that there was something between them. Nancy had alluded to as much last night... 

When he looked up, Nancy was standing across from him. She looked hesitant and unsure. 

"Oh, hey," she whispered.

"Hey," Jonathan answered, slowly taking a step forward. 

"I-I just, uh..." Nancy closed her eyes, her head shaking slightly. "I-I just wanted to say that..."

Jonathan's stomach dropped. She didn't feel the same, Murray had been wrong... "Oh no," he rushed in, "Don't - I mean, he's so drunk," he finished lamely. 

"Wasted," Nancy agreed, seeming relieved. 

"Yeah," Jonathan nodded. "I mean, what? He knows us for a couple of hours and he's got us all figured out?" He crossed his arms over his chest again, feeling uncomfortable, exposed. 'Us'. But there was no 'us'... 

"Exactly," Nancy was saying. "God. Okay, yeah. I feel... I'm glad we feel the same way."

Jonathan's head was screaming for the truth, but his mouth had other plans. "Yeah, yeah, it's fine," he heard himself say. He froze, his brain reeling. What now?

"So..." Nancy must feel the same way, "Uh, good night, I guess,"

She slowly began to back away and he followed suit. "Yeah, good night," he called from the other side of the room. He turned and almost walked straight into the concrete wall. His heart pounded as he move around the obstacle, back toward the pull-out sofa. When he turned to close the door, Nancy was already pulling the bedroom door closed. 

He sighed and slid the metal door shut. 

He climbed onto the dusty mattress, feeling completely defeated. The girl he loved would never know how he truly felt about her. He was a coward. Maybe his father was right. Maybe he was no good; maybe he was too afraid... 

His head hit the pillow and he sighed angrily. His frustration was bubbling, but what could he do? He snapped off the light and allowed the darkness to wash over the small room. 

He truly was a coward. His father would be proven right. 

Jonathan ran a hand down his face and then back up through his hair. He wished he had some way to release the frustration building up inside of his chest. A punching bag would be great - maybe Murray would allow Jonathan to hit him a couple times. Something, some kind of action. Anything was better than just laying here on a stranger's sofa, allowing his feelings of inadequacy to fester. 

That's what made up his mind. Nancy deserved to know. He owed it to her to be honest. At least that way, he would be able to express his feelings and have them out in the open. Then the ball would be in Nancy's court. She could decide. He had no problem with her calling the shots or having the final say in the matter. If she wanted nothing to do with him, he would respect her wishes and walk away. It wouldn't be easy, but if that's what Nancy wanted, he would try. 

He pushed himself out of bed and opened the metal door. His mind was set. He walked resolutely across the basement, his feet cold on the thin rug. 

He bit his lip, trying to put together the right words to say. He paused in front of her door, collecting himself. 

And then suddenly her bedroom door swung open and Nancy Wheeler was standing in front of him, eyes wide and deepest blue, hair mussed. Her eyes searched his and then dropped to his lips. 

This was it. It was now or never. But his words were stuck in his throat and he couldn't speak. So Jonathan did the only thing he knew to express what he was feeling. 

He leaned forward and brushed his lips against Nancy's. 

Her lips were soft and tasted faintly like strawberries. She gasped against his lips and Jonathan withdrew, unsure. 

Nancy stared at him in shock, her eyes shimmering in the soft yellow light, her lips slightly parted. 

He wanted her so badly, but needed her to tell him, give him a sign that this is what she wanted too. He stood, fixed to the spot, unable to move. She controlled his destiny. 

Nancy stepped toward him and then her hands were sliding against his jaw and his hand was cupping the side of her face and she was kissing him - SHE WAS KISSING HIM. She sucked and bit at his lower lip and he felt a low groan rise from his throat as he pressed to return the heated kiss. 

They kissed urgently, eagerly, gasping for breath. Jonathan gripped Nancy to him, never wanting to let her go. 

He threaded his fingers through her hair and she moaned against his lips. He could feel his body start to react to her, warmth pooling at the bottom of his stomach. 

Nancy pulled at him, beckoning him to come with her. He pushed forward, eager to follow her wherever she may lead. Once he had stepped into the bedroom, she pushed the door shut and dragged him toward the guest bed. 

Nancy pulled Jonathan down onto the bed next to her, her lips tracing his. He settled down next to her, but Nancy tugged at his arms until he shifted, half above her. 

He broke the kiss, panting. She gazed back at him, the blue of her eyes almost swallowed by starry black. Her lips were parted as she fought to regain her breath. 

"Nancy," he whispered lovingly. 

"Jonathan," she answered, running the tips of her fingers through his hair. She tugged at his shirt, but he hesitated. 

"Nance - are you sure? I-I... we don't have to rush anything -"

She lifted herself up and captured his lips. "I want you." This time when she pulled at his shirt, he allowed her to pull it over his head and discard it somewhere on the floor. Her cool arms ran along his shoulder and down his arms. He shivered slightly as her finger tips traced his neck and she planted kissed along his jaw. 

He cupped her face and kissed her soundly, savoring the taste of her lips, the feel of her tongue against his. 

She sighed into his mouth, her nailed trailing down his back. When her hands moved to the front of his pajama pants, Jonathan froze. 

"Nancy," he breathed shakily. "Nance -"

Nancy kissed him deeply and Jonathan's mind went a bit fuzzy until he realized she was pushing him onto his back. Jonathan allowed himself to be moved, staring up at Nancy. She smiled down at him before dipping her head to kiss him. First his lips, then his jaw, his throat, and lower, over his heart. It tickled slightly when she kissed his side over his ribs and groaned as she moved lower still, planting kissed below his navel. 

He felt her tug at his pants and he hesitantly lifted his hips to allow Nancy to pull the yellow paisley pants down his legs. His boxers did nothing to hide his reaction to her, but Nancy didn't linger. She crawled up beside him and drew on leg across his waist, straddling him. 

Jonathan's breath caught in his throat as Nancy shifted her hips, sliding lower. She leaned down and kissed him, lightly sucking on his lower lips. When Nancy began to move against him, he saw stars. His body was on fire, his nerves sparked with electricity. 

"Nancy," he groaned, his fingers, gripping her knees. 

Nancy kissed him again before sitting up. She gathered the edge of her nightgown and slowly lifted it over her head. Jonathan stared up at Nancy, keeping his gaze on her face. He felt his cheeks burns. 

Nancy gently pulled at his shoulders, coaxing him into a sitting position. Jonathan slowly ran his hands up her back along the curve of her spine before pulling her to him so that he could kiss her. He could have been happy just to hold her and feel her heart beat against his chest and her lips against his. Nancy's fingers tangled in his hair as he wrapped his arms around her. He could feel her bare breasts against his chest. 

"Jonathan-"

He glanced up at her, placing a kiss on her shoulder. "Hmm?"

Nancy guided Jonathan's hands and placed them just below her breasts. Jonathan's fingers twitched. "Nancy... I've... I've never -"

She cut him off and kissed him, as if to reassure him. He cupped her face and kissed her harder, needing the certainty, drawing it in. 

When they parted, they were both panting slightly. Nancy scooted further down his body, placing a kiss on his chest above his heart. She tugged Jonathan's boxers over his thin hips and settled between his legs. Jonathan's throat was dry and he bite his lip as Nancy's breath washed over him. He was already stiff when she took him in her mouth, and he instantly hardened. The moan that left his lips was deep and guttural as he threw his head back against the mattress. Her mouth was soft and wet and warm and encompassed him completely. She bobbed her head, slowly dragging her lips up and down his length. Jonathan's fingers gripped the bedsheets, desperate to hold on to his rapidly failing self-control. 

Nancy sat back, wiping her lips as she smile almost shyly at Jonathan. He surged forward, capturing her lips with his, his arms wrapped around her as he lifted her up. She gasped in surprise, her fingers digging into his shoulder. Everything about her town was divine. Jonathan shifted and dropped her onto the bed, covering her body with his. He kissed her fiercely, desperate the taste every inch of her. Nancy gasped as he palmed one breast and lowered his lips to attend to the other. Nancy's breasts were small, firm and soft to the touch. He rolled his thumb over one of her nipples and was rewarded with a breathy moan. 

Nancy had always been slender and thin, but as he ran his hands down her ribs, he wondered if she was eating enough. He kissed his way down her stomach, nuzzling and kissing his way lower and lower. When at last he reached the apex of her legs, Nancy was panting heavily. 

He brushed a finger over the soft brown curls and Nancy gasped, her hips shifting in response. He kissed the inside of her thigh as he ran his fingers against her sex, feeling the slick wetness that had gathered there. 

"Jonathan!" Nancy urged, fingers brushing his hand. Jonathan leaned forward, Nancy's legs wrapping around his waist. He interlaced their fingers, pining Nancy's hands above her head. She made a noise deep in her throat and lifted her head so that she could steal a kiss. 

He returned her kiss, his head soaring in the clouds.  Nancy began rocking her hips against his, causing her wetness to rub against the length of his member. "Oh God, Nancy," he whispered against her lips. 

Her hand loosened from his hold and he felt her slid her hand between them, down his stomach until she took his cock in hand and directed it against the entrance of her sex. "Make love to me," she breathed and Jonathan groaned as he slid into her. This was ecstasy, bliss. He kissed her harder, stars returning to his eyes. He began to move his hips, gently sliding in and out. He felt Nancy drag his fingers down his back, making him buck against her harder. 

She pressed harder, her nails digging into his upper back. A rumble built at the back of his throat and he began to move faster, rougher, as he held her close to him. Nancy's legs tightened around his waist and she tilted her hips. She felt so incredible that Jonathan wasn't sure how much longer he could last. As he began to feel his climax build, he realized that they didn't have a condom and almost panicked. Not knowing what else to do, Jonathan pulled out from Nancy, spending himself onto the bedsheets. 

He tried to catch his breath, panting as he hovered over Nancy. She smiled up at him and ran an hand through his hair. Jonathan caught her hand and pressed a kiss against her palm. He loved her so much... He rolled off of Nancy, sighing as his toes still tingled slightly. Never in a million years would he have thought that this is how his night would end. Nancy rolled onto her side and rested her head against his chest. Jonathan drew his arm around her, gently stroking her upper arm. 

He remembered Nancy's bare leg draped over his, her hand resting on his stomach as he drifted off to sleep. 

++

They awoke to the sound of Murray overhead in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. Jonathan pulled Nancy closer and kissed her bare shoulder. 

"Good morning."

"Good morning," she yawned, stretching. She rolled over and kissed him, long and slow. 

Jonathan never wanted this moment to end. He slid his hands into her hair, brushing the nape of her neck. 

"Hmm," she hummed, pressing into him. 

"Uh-" Jonathan shifted away slightly, kissing her again. "If you keep doing that -"

Nancy grinned up at him mischievously. "Maybe that was my plan - keep you here in bed with me all day."

Jonathan smiled back at her. "That sounds like a pretty amazing day... but..."

"I know," Nancy kissed him again, more chastely. "We need to get back to Hawkins." She sighed.

Jonathan slowly detangled himself from her before standing. He retrieved his discarded pajamas from the floor as Nancy pulled on a pair of pants and an oversized blue sweater. She ran her fingers through her hair before giving up and pulling it into a ponytail. 

Murray was cooking bacon and eggs when they entered the kitchen. He glanced back at them, eyeing Nancy and Jonathan before returning to his task. 

The three sat down at Bauman's metal dinette table to eat breakfast. Jonathan felt ravenous as he shoveled eggs into his mouth. 

He could feel Murray's eyes on him and tried to avoid eye contact as much as possible. Jonathan reached for his glass of orange juice. 

"So, Jonathan, how was the pull-out?" 

Jonathan thought he was going to choke on his juice. Did he know - How the hell did Murray know? Had he been watching? There were cameras everywhere... 

"Uh, sorry?" Jonathan sputtered. 

"The sofa," Murray clarified, his expression neutral. 

Jonathan caught Nancy smirking across the table. "Oh yeah, uh - Yeah, it was good," he stammered. 

The exchange didn't go unnoticed by Bauman. A sickening, mischievous grin spread across his face. "I bet," he snickered. 

Jonathan proceeded to shovel more food into his mouth to avoid talking about the matter any further. There was no way he was discussing loosing his virginity with a complete stranger. 

As soon as Jonathan had finished eating, he hurried back downstairs to gather up his belonging. He cleaned himself up from last night in the bathroom and then changed his clothes. Nancy was waiting for him outside the bathroom when he had finished changing and chanced a kiss before closing the door behind her. 

Jonathan packed his bag and ran it up to the car while he waited for Nancy to finish changing. When Nancy was finished, he pulled her aside. 

"I need to call my mom," Jonathan told Nancy. "I haven't been able to get a hold of her since we left."

Nancy frowned. "Do you... do you think everything is okay?"

Jonathan's stomach flipped uneasily. "I hope so."

He dialed his home number and waited as the phone rang. And rang, and rang.... Finally, he hung up and passed the phone to Nancy so that she could call her mom. 

He allowed her some privacy as he retrieved his jacket from the coat rank hanging next to the front door. He entered the room several minutes later, pulling on his jacket and adjusting the collar. 

"Okay. All right. I love you, too, Mom," Nancy said. "Bye."

Jonathan looked at Nancy expectantly. "She said Mike's at your brother's house. They just had a sleepover. So... "

"Oh okay," That made Jonathan feel a little better, knowing that Mike should be with Will. At least he wasn't alone...

"Do you wanna try again?" Nancy offer, extending the phone toward Jonathan. 

Jonathan tried to keep his panic suppressed. "No. No it's fine. They're probably... just at a matinée or something," he reasoned. The Terminator recently come out and the boys had been dying to see it. Mike and Will would probably have no problem convincing Joyce to take them. 

Nancy nodded in agreement, but her expression was doubtful. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"I'll try again, later."

"Yeah, yeah, we'll find a payphone somewhere."

When they left, Murray followed them to the door. He extended a bottle of clear liquid to Nancy. "For your travels," he joked, "And to water it down." He handed Nancy a bottle of vodka and a bottle of distilled water. 

"Got it," Nancy said. "Thank you - for everything."

"Don't thank me yet," Murray rebutted. "Just keep your eyes on the papers, hmm? And - if you need to reach me again... don't." He slammed the door in their face. 

"Well, that was -"

"Weird?" Jonathan guessed, blinking at the metal door. 

"Well, yeah, that... I was going to say rude," Nancy turned toward the car and carefully placed the two bottles in the back seat. She straightened, smiling. "Let's go home."

They drove straight back to Indiana and made pretty good time. Jonathan played his The Clash cassette and Nancy seemed to enjoy it. She slid into the middle seat, their hips almost touching and slipped her fingers into his. 

Jonathan couldn't stop smiling. His heart felt so full he thought it would burst. 

Just over the state line, they stopped at a gas station so Nancy could use the restroom and the clerk allowed Jonathan to use their office phone. He tried calling his house again and again, there was no answer. He called Melvald's General Store and was told that Joyce hadn't come into work that morning. Bob Newby wasn't at Radio Shack either. As a last resort, he dialed the number for the Hawkins police station and asked Flo for Hopper. She informed him that Hopper wasn't there, but she would let him know that Jonathan had called for him. 

Jonathan chewed on his nail as he waited for Nancy, anxiety starting to creep in again. As they got back on the road, he told her about the phone calls.

"I don't know, I just... I've got a bad feeling..."

"We're only a few hours away," Nancy said, looping her arm through his. "We'll be there before too long and we'll make sure everyone is alright."

When they finally pulled up to the Byer's house, Jonathan noticed that Bob's car was parked outside, but Joyce's was gone. Maybe they had just done into town, seen a movie... 

He approached the house, trying to shake the feeling to dread that was trying to pull him under. 

When he opened the front door, he stopped short. It wasn't Christmas lights, but the walls were covered with scribbled pieces of paper taped together. 

"Oh no," Jonathan whispered in horror. "What..."

"What is all of this?" Nancy asked, her voice full of concern.

Black, blue, purple and brown crayon had been scribbled onto papers that were taped together. The maze twisted and curved, the papers running along the wall, the ceiling and the floors and even draping over the furniture. What in the hell was this? "I-I don't know..." 

"Mom?" Jonathan yelled, running down the hall. "Will?" The papers lined the hallway too. Jonathan checked Joyce's bedroom and found it empty, save for more scribbled drawings. 

Will's room was empty as well but was much colder than it should have been. A sleeping bag was on the floor next to Will's bed, so Mike must have been here the night before... 

Jonathan glanced around the room, trying to make sense of the maze taped to the walls. As he slowly turned, another pile of pictures caught his eye. There was a drawing of a storm - it almost looked like a tornado. 

When Jonathan picked it up, he realized that it wasn't a tornado or any natural formation of clouds. Will had drawn some kind of creature. It almost looked like a giant spider, but didn't have the right number of legs. 

Jonathan's heart slowly sank. If Will had drawn this... did that mean... was this what was haunting his nightmares? Was this something else that had been hunting him on the Other Side?

Thin lines of red lightning framed the creature on the paper. Jonathan's own troubled dream crept back into his mind and his skin crawled. 

Something shifted under his foot. He glanced down and saw a polaroid cartridge beneath his shoe. He bend down and retrieve the thin plastic square. 

He wandered back down the hall, searching for other evidence that people other than his family had been in the house. 

He found Nancy in the seldom used dinning room, which was now covered in papers. She was studying the maze of drawings, her forehead furrowed in concentration. 

"I don't shoot Polaroid," he told Nancy, showing her the cartridge. 

Nancy's brow wrinkled in confusion. "What?"

"It's not mine," he explained, tossing the polaroid cartridge onto the table. "Someone else has been here." 

Nancy's eyes grew wide. "Do you think -"

"The Lab," Jonathan nodded. "It had to be. Who else would come into our home and take pictures?"

"Do you think that's where Will is?" Nancy asked, glancing at the drawings on the ceiling. 

"That's where his doctor is," Jonathan nodded. "If Will has been having nightmares - episodes, that's where they want him to go. They say that they can help him. I need to get to the Lab, I need to make sure that Will is okay..."

Nancy nodded. "Ok. Let's go."


	7. Up the Hill Backwards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see first chapter for regular disclaimer

Hawkins Lab had something to do with the absence of his mother and Will. Darkness fell rapidly as Jonathan sped toward the government facility. Nancy nervously chewed at her nails. 

Jonathan drummed at the steering wheel, his anxiety building. 

The lane up to the guard gate was strangely dark, with no sign of any government security detail. Nancy leaned forward, mouth slightly agape as they drew closer to the large dark mass that loomed up ahead. 

Jonathan pulled up to the guard gate and glanced inside. No security guard manned the gate. Something was wrong... 

Jonathan put the car into park and both he and Nancy exited the vehicle. 

"Why are the lights off?" Jonathan asked, his stomach sinking. Something was very, very wrong... 

"Maybe it's closed?" Nancy suggested, sounding doubtful. 

Jonathan shook his head. No way it was closed. This facility was manned 24/7. "What, security just took the night off? No," he slammed the car door shut, "I don't think so..."

He let himself into the guard shack, looking around until he found the controls for gate access. He pressed the 'OPEN' button, waiting expectantly. Surely they had a generator in this place, right? Some kind of back-up power supply? Nothing happened. He crouched down in front of the controls, making sure he was hitting the correct button. He pressed it again, and again, with no result. Frustrated, he searched for the fuse box and began flipping switches. What the hell was going on? 

He heard Nancy approach the booth. "It's not working?" she asked, concerned. 

"No! The power's off," Jonathan attempted to get the 'OPEN' button to respond to no avail. He sighed in irritation, trying to figure out if there was any way to reset, redirect power, somehow...

"Jonathan?" Nancy started tentatively. 

"What?"

"I-I think there's something in the woods."

The Demogorgon. Jonathan's blood ran cold. No way had that thing survived... the girl, Eleven, she had disintegrated it, even disappeared along with it. The boys had witnessed it, right inside the school... 

Jonathan slowly got to his feet, eyes sweeping the surrounding tree line. There was a distinct rustling noise coming from that direction. Nancy started toward it. Why the hell was she going toward the noise?!

"Nancy," Jonathan called, hurrying after her, "Nancy, stay back." He caught her arm and pushed her back, putting himself in front of her. 

Small dots of light moved between the trees. Well, at least it wasn't a monster... 

"Hello?" Jonathan called. Maybe it was the security guards, gone to check what had happened to the power. "Who's there?" 

The flashlight emerged from the woods until its wielder was close enough that they could make out his face. 

"Steve?"

Steve Harrington stood before them, looking equally as surprised to see them. He clutched the bat that they had turned into a make-shift melee weapon last year. 

Behind Steve appeared his brother's friends - Dustin Henderson and Lucas Sinclair along with a red-headed girl that Jonathan had never seen before. 

"Nancy?" The expression of confusion hadn't left Steve's face. 

"Jonathan!" Dustin greeted, stepping forward. 

"What are you doing here?!" Nancy shouted, her tone accusing. 

Steve appeared affronted. "What are you doing here?" he shot back. 

"We're looking for Mike and Will."

Dustin's face fell. "They're not in there, are they?"

Why did that matter? Jonathan frowned, studying his brother's friend's face. 

"We're not sure," Nancy said slowly.

"Why?" Jonathan prodded, watching Dustin's face. He seemed nervous, anxious, and a little big guilty and Jonathan wanted to know why.  

Suddenly an unearthly screech sounded from the direction of the lab. Lights dimly flickered in the windows of several upper floors before going out completely. 

Jonathan's eyes stung and his vision blurred as his heart drop. Oh no, God please, no... 

He stepped forward, toward the lab. Nancy grabbed his sleeve, pulling him back. 

"Jonathan -"

"I have to - I have to save them. If Will's in there... I can't... I can't lose him again -"

"Jonathan," Nancy coaxed, tugging on his arm. 

Jonathan rounded on the boys. "When was the last time you spoke to Will? To Mike?"

"Hey, hey, now," Steve said defensively, holding up a hand. 

"We haven't seen Will -" Dustin began as Lucas talked on top of him. "I haven't seen him since -"

"The power's back!" Nancy called.

The power had come back on, flooding the surrounding facility with light. They all stared for a moment before Jonathan turned on his heels and ran back toward the guard shack. He brushed past his car and skidded to a stop inside the guard's booth, slamming his fingers against the 'OPEN' button. 

Nothing happened. 

He pushed the button again, becoming increasingly confused and frustrated. The power was back on, why wasn't the gate opening?!

Dustin pushed inside, shoving his hands away from the controls. "Let me try," he said, pushing on the buttons. 

"Hang on," Jonathan grumbled, trying to get back to the fuse box. Something must have blown when the power originally went out...

"Let me try, Jonathan!" Dustin persisted, shouldering him aside. Dustin smashed his fingers against the 'OPEN' button, the same as Jonathan had. 

He sighed in exasperation, his hands falling to his hips. "Yeah, like I hadn't tried that," he mumbled under his breath. 

"Son of a bitch!" Dustin cursed, kicking at the wall. "You know what..." he began to beat his fist against the button. 

"Dustin, that's not going to -"

The metal gate moaned and clanked as it slowly began sliding open. Jonathan stared for a moment in disbelief before pushing past Dustin out of the guard shack. 

"Hey! I got it!" Dustin exclaimed happily. 

They all stood in front of the gate, peering ahead into the mist. 

They were wasting time... Jonathan pulled open his car door and slid inside, twisting the key in the ignition. 

"Where are you going?" Steve shouted.

"I'm going to get my mom and Will!" Jonathan yelled back. As he began to pull forward, Nancy threw herself into the front seat next to him. She nodded, gripping the door handle. 

Jonathan floored it. He drove through the gate and toward the main entrance. As they drew closer, they hear everything more acutely. Screeches, screams and gunfire sounded. Jonathan flinched. God, he hoped he wasn't too late...

As he hit the brakes, he saw Mike Wheeler and two individuals in teal scrubs. 

"Come on, get in!" he yelled, honking the horn. 

As they drew closer, Jonathan realized that his mother and Chief Hopper were dressed in medical scrubs. Hopper was carrying something, wrapped in a white sheet. 

The blood drained from Jonathan's face. Oh God, Will... 

Joyce scrambled into the back seat behind Mike, who Nancy immediately grabbed and gathered up into a hug over the seat. Hopper carefully placed Will into Joyce's arms and slammed the car door. 

"Go, go, get out of here!" Hopper yelled as he began to run toward his police truck. 

Breaking glass and bone-chilling cries made Jonathan slam his foot to the accelerator. He pulled through the parking lot and tore down the road back toward the gate. Seconds later, Hopper's headlights shone in his rear-view mirror. 

His mother was crying in the backseat, cradling Will against her. 

"He's dead, he's gone, he's dead," she sobbed. 

Tear immediately sprang to Jonathan's eyes. "Will - ?"

"No," Mike said glumly, "Bob. Those... things got to him."

Jonathan's relief was quickly clouded by a strong sense of shame and guilt. He felt terrible; he was truly sorry that Bob had died, but at the same time couldn't stop the relief that Will was okay... 

"What things?" Nancy asked, still reaching over the seat to touch her brother's shoulder. 

"I don't really know... I mean, they kind of look like the Demogoran, but... they're different... smaller..."

As he pulled around toward the gate, he saw the kids standing in the middle of the road. He honked, signaling for them to get out of the way. They jumped aside and Jonathan sped past them, flying toward the county road. 

"Was that Lucas and Dustin?" Mike exclaimed, turning in the seat to stare out the window. "We have to go back for them!"

"Hopper'll get them," Jonathan reasoned, not slowing down. He had seen the Chief's headlight fall behind. 

"Yeah," Nancy agreed. "See? He's stopping to get them now."

Mike nodded, but kept watch out the back window. 

Jonathan glanced in his rear-view mirror, trying to catch his mother's eye. 

"Mom?"

Joyce was still muttering to herself, cradling Will's unconscious body. 

"Ms. Byers - Joyce," Nancy coaxed, reaching a hand toward her. 

Finally, Joyce glanced up at Nancy, tears streaming down her face. 

"Are you alright?" Nancy asked. 

Jonathan couldn't see his mother's response, but saw Nancy nod out of the corner of her eye. "Is Will okay?" she asked for Jonathan. 

"He - he..."

"The Shadow Monster -" Mike cut in, leaning forward, "It got him."

"What?" Jonathan's head snapped back. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"It got Will - it's ... it's inside of him."

"What?" Nancy turned to her little brother. 

Mike sighed. "It's from the Upside Down. Somehow, it was connected to Will and two days ago, it infected him. It's taking over - that's why we had to drug Will. It found out that Will was spying on it, so then it took control and turned the tables on us."

Jonathan's skin crawled. How was this possible? How was any of this possible?

"Is he okay?" Jonathan asked, his voice cracking. 

"Yeah," Mike replied, sounding slightly uncertain. "He's okay, but we need to figure out how to get it out of him..."

"Any ideas?" Nancy asked, hopeful. 

Mike shook his head. "No... the Doctor was trying to figure it out, but then those things came..."

Jonathan felt defeated. How where they supposed to fight a monster that was inside of Will?

When they finally got back to the Byers' house, Jonathan lifted Will from his mother's arms and carried him inside the house. He carefully set Will down on the couch in the living room and Joyce tucked the hospital sheet around him, rearranging his arms against his sides. 

Jonathan knelt by Will, refusing to leave his side. He gently stroked his little brother's hair. He looked so small and fragile this way, his cheeks pale and clammy. 

"Hey, hey there," Jonathan said softly, brushing the hair along Will's temple. "It's me... I'm sorry, buddy."

Will's skin felt cold against his touch. Jonathan's vision blurred again and he attempted to blink away the tears. "I'm sorry I wasn't there... I should have been there," he confessed, a lump rising in his throat. 

He felt Nancy's hand on his shoulder and was grateful for her presence. 

Behind him, he faintly registered Jim Hopper yelling at someone on the phone. 

Eventually, Jonathan retreated to the sofa opposite Will, keeping an eye on him. Nancy sat beside him, close, but not quite touching. 

Steve stayed in the kitchen with the younger kids, and Hopper had gone to check on Joyce a while ago. 

"He'll be okay," Nancy tried to reassure him. 

Jonathan ran a hand over his face before bowing his head. "How can he be?" he muttered, glancing at his younger brother. "How are we going to be able to get that thing out of him?"

"I don't know," Nancy said slowly, her hand lingering just above his wrist. "But, we'll figure it out."

There was a shout from down the hall and Jonathan quickly got to his feet to investigate. Mike appeared from Will's room, carrying a large book. 

He frantically flipped through the pages, searching for something. 

Hopper exited Joyce's room and entered the kitchen, his arms crossed. "What's going on here?"

"We've figured out what has Will," Lucas explained, pointing to the book Mike was holding. 

Mike finally gasped and threw the book down on the table, pointing. 

Dustin pulled the book across the table, leading over it. "The Mind Flayer," he declared, in way of explanation. 

"What the hell is that?" Hopper asked, glancing at the book over the heads of the kids. 

"It's a monster from an unknown dimension," Dustin continued, "It's so ancient that it doesn't even know its true home. Okay? It-it enslaves races of other dimensions by taking over their brains using its highly-developed psionic powers."

Hopper rolled his eyes. "Oh my God, none of this is real," he groaned. "This is a kid's game."

"No-no, it's a manual, and it's not for kids," Dustin ridiculed, pointing an accusing finger at Hopper. "And unless you know something that we don't, this is the best metaphor -"

"Analogy," Lucas corrected. 

Jonathan glanced between the boys as Dustin scoffed. 

"Analogy? That's what you're worried about?" Dustin threw up his hands. "Fine. An analogy for understanding whatever the hell this is."

"Okay -" Nancy cut in, breaking up the fight that was about to ensue. "So this mind flamer thing -"

"FLAYER," Dustin corrected, pointing to the caption in the D&D book. "Mind Flayer."

Nancy signed in frustration before pressing forward. "What does it want?"

Dustin shrugged. "To conquer us, basically. You know, it believes it's the master race."

"Oh, like the Germans?" Steve offered. 

"Uh, the Nazis?" Dustin corrected, turning to Steve. 

Steve stared back at Dustin for a second, perplexed. "Uh, yeah, yeah, the Nazis..."

"Uh, sure, if the Nazis were from another dimension, totally," Dustin stammered. "Uh, it views other races, like us, as inferior to itself."

"It wants to spread, take over other dimensions," Mike added, nodding across the table. 

"We are talking about the destruction of our world as we know it!" Lucas emphasized. 

"That's great!" Steve exclaimed. "That's great, that's really great, Jesus!" Steve walked away from the table, muttering to himself. 

Nancy leaned forward, trying to read from the Dungeons & Dragons Player Guide. "Okay, so if this thing is like a brain that's controlling everything, then if we kill it -"

"We kill everything it controls," Mike agreed, nodding. 

"We win," Dustin added excitedly. 

"Theoretically," Lucas reminded. None of this was certain, it wasn't like an exact science, after all... How many times did you have creatures from another dimension trying to take over the world?

"Great," Hopper said mockingly, grabbing the book from Nancy. "So how do you kill this thing? Shoot it with Fireballs or something?"

Dustin laughed out loud before clearing his throat. "No. No, no Fire- No Fireballs. Uh, you summon an undead army, uh because... uh, because zombies," Dustin began to stammer, realizing that logic was failing his explanation," you know, they don't have brains... and the Mind Flayer, it... it... It likes ... brains."

Dustin stared up at Nancy and Hopper, who were looking at him incredulously. 

"It-it's just a game," he stammered out, shoulders dropping. "It's a game..."

Hopper slammed the book down on the table. "What the hell are we doing here?" he asked, agitated. 

"I thought we were waiting for your military backup," Dustin bit back. 

Jonathan sighed, rubbing his forehead. They weren't getting anywhere... 

"We are!" Hopper yelled, turning back to face Dustin. 

"Even if they come, how are they going to stop this?" Mike challenged, squaring his shoulders against the Police Chief. "You can't just shoot this with guns."

"You don't know that! We don't know anything!" 

"We know it's already killed everybody in that lab," Mike cut in, gesturing widely. 

"And we know the monsters are gonna molt again!" Lucas offered.

"Molt?" Jonathan frowned. What did that mean?

"We know that it's only a matter of time before those tunnels reach this town," Dustin agreed. 

"They're right."

Jonathan turned at his mother's voice. Her voice was hoarse from crying, her eyes puffy and swollen.

"We have to kill it," Joyce seethed. "I want to kill it..."

Hopper rounded the table and approached Joyce in the hallway. Jonathan could barely make out what he was saying to his mother. 

"Me too, Joyce okay? But how do we do that?" The Chief asked a little more loudly. "We don't exactly know what we're dealing with here."

"No..." Mike admitted, stepping toward. "But he does."

Mike was pointing at Will, slowly walking toward him. Jonathan moved to follow him. 

"If anyone knows how to destroy this thing, it's Will," Mike was confident in this fact. "He's connected to it. He'll know its weakness."

"I thought we couldn't trust him anymore," the red-headed girl Jonathan thought Lucas had called Max said. "That he's a spy for the Mind Flayer now."

"Yeah, but he can't spy if he doesn't know where he is," Mike reasoned. He turned, glancing to Jonathan. "Is there somewhere we can put him that he wouldn't recognize where he is?"

Jonathan frowned. "Not in this house."

"What about that shed?" Joyce asked, glancing toward the back of the house. 

"In the back? Will would recognize it. Plus, it's full of junk..."

"We could clear it out," Nancy suggested. 

"Yeah, and - and, hang something on the wall, so he can't, you know, recognize that he's in the shed," Mike offered. 

After some more discussion, Hopper finally relented to the plan and began to assign everyone tasks to help empty out and prepare the shed, although Hopper ended up dumping most of it into a pile just outside the door. 

Hopper set them all working to collect items they could use to disguise the shed's location. Nancy and Steve began to hang tarps and sheets and large pieces of cardboard to the walls. Lucas and Dustin collected newspaper and other materials to wrap around chairs.

Jonathan went with his mother, striping sheets from the beds which did not have defining characteristic or pattern that would give them away. 

"Mom -" Jonathan said slowly as he gathered some white linens from her closet. 

Joyce continued to pull the sheets off her own bed. 

"Mom -" Jonathan placed a hand on her shoulder and found that she was shaking. He quickly encircled her with his arms, pulling her close. Joyce shook in his arms, the sound of her muffled sobs making Jonathan fight against his own tears. He placed a soft hand to the back of her head. 

"It isn't fair," he heard her thin voice quiver. 

He rested his cheek against the top of her head and sighed. "None of this is fair," he agreed. Pulling back slightly, he attempted to look her in the eye. "I'm sorry about Bob, Mom."

Joyce nodded, wiping away the tears that kept escaping down her face. She patted his cheek and then turned away. "I think I have some more sheets out on the line," she sniffled, running her sleeve across her eye as she stepped out into the hall. 

Jonathan followed her down the hallway, glancing into the living room at Will's unconscious figure on the couch. 

It was tearing him up inside that there was something inside of Will, manipulating his mind and body. It made his blood boil. 

Jonathan followed Joyce around the side of the house, and she began pulling bedding and sheets from the clothes line. 

"You sure this is gonna work?" he asked, fumbling with a sheet. 

"He knew who I was," Joyce insisted, her voice trembling. In the darkness, her eyes glistened like stars. "He's still in there. It's gonna work. It has to."

Inside the shed, everyone worked together to cover every recognizable surface. Once Hooper was satisfied, he instructed Jonathan to get Will from the house. 

Jonathan knelt beside his brother, who now looked so much smaller and frailer than he should. Jonathan gently brushed the hair from Will's forehead, feeling how cold and clamy his skin felt under his fingers. 

"I'm really sorry about this, buddy," Jonathan said softly, fingers curling into a fist. "But we don't know any other way to figure out how to beat this thing. And I'm not letting it win. We're fighting for you, Will. Please... you have to fight too..."

Will laid motionless in front of Jonathan, his chest rising and falling with shallow breathes. 

Sighing, Jonathan wrapped the thin sheet around Will and then lifted him into his arms. He cradled his little brother, carrying him through the living room and kitchen. When he got to the backdoor, he found that it had pulled shut. Jonathan carefully repositioned Will so that he laid across his shoulder. Honestly, Will felt too light to Jonathan. Jonathan used his free hand to open the door before steadying Will as he made his way down the back steps. 

The air was cold and sharp in Jonathan's lungs as he carried Will across the short expanse between the house and the shed. 

Joyce helped to untangle Will from the bed sheet before Jonathan gently set Will onto one of the cardboard-covered chairs. 

Hopper and Jonathan tied Will to both the chair and supporting post while Joyce prepped a needle with some kind of sedative. 

Lucas plugged in some flood lights that Mike had strung up and suddenly there was a blinding spot light on Will. Jonathan could hardly see anything outside the radius of the light, making it difficult to tell that they were inside the Byers' backyard shed.  
   
Hopper ordered everyone else back into the house except for himself, Joyce, Jonathan and Mike. After some protesting, Nancy and Steve were able to usher the other kids back to the house. They waited for a few minutes until there were no more recognizable noises outside. Jonathan could almost feel the tension in the air as they prepared to take this gamble. 

Finally Hopper heaved a heavy sigh and turned to Joyce. "All right, you ready?" he asked, not unkindly. 

Jonathan shifted nervously from foot to foot. 

Joyce nodded, seeming to gather her courage. "Yeah."

Hopper nodded and then approached Will, shaking up a bottle of cleaning ammonia. He removed the cap and soaked a cotton ball with the liquid before sticking it under Will's nose. 

Will awoke with a jolt and a horrifying gasp. Jonathan jumped and his heart raced. He clenched his fists, trying to maintain his composure. 

Jonathan could see Will begin to gather himself and he looked around, his mind spinning as he tried to piece together where he was. Something was off, something about the way his eyes shifted... that wasn't like Will at all... 

Hopper slowly approached him and Jonathan saw Will begin to strain against the cord. Panic was beginning to build up in him. 

"What? What? What is this?" Will stammered, his voice trembling. "What? What is this? Why am I tied up?"

Jonathan's jaw felt like it might snap. This isn't your brother, this isn't your brother, this isn't your brother, he repeated to himself, trying to make himself believe. It wasn't working very well. 

Joyce shuffled forward, leaning in front of Will. "Will, we just wanna talk to you," she whispered, her hands on his knees. "We're not gonna hurt you."

Will lifted his eyes from Joyce, searching for another answer. "Where am I?" he demanded. 

Hopper knelt beside Joyce at Will's eye-level. He held up Will's drawing of the storm, of the shadow monster. "You recognize this?" he asked curtly, not playing around. "Do you recognize this?"

Will's eyes flitted from Hopper to the paper. He stared for a moment before shaking his head. 

"Hey," Joyce soothed, "We wanna help you. But to do that, we have to understand how to kill it."

That triggered Will - or, rather, the thing inside of Will. "Why am I tied up?" he screamed. And screamed and screamed. Jonathan's eyes filled with tears as Will began to fight against the restraints, pulling and screaming. 

Hopper tried to settle him down as the lights began to flicker as if by some power surge. Jonathan unconsciously took half a step back, his skin crawling as a sickening shiver ran down his spine as Will screamed, demanding that they let him go, his voice growing deeper and more threatening by the minute. 

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Will began to wear himself out, his voice softening and his shoulders slumping until Hopper released his hold on him and he sat seemingly lifelessly, staring with cold, half-dead eyes at Joyce. 

Joyce sat back, silent for a while as she looked at Will. Eventually, she spoke. Her voice was so quite that Jonathan didn't hear her at first, only caught the date spoken - March 22nd. 

Will's birthday. Jonathan could recall that day, a crazy, wonderful day that his mom had gone to the hospital and come back with a baby brother. A small, pink thing that cried and cried and would only be soothed by Joyce walking around the house, rocking him in her arms as she sang her favorite songs. 

"Your birthday," Joyce was telling Will, reminding him, encouraging him to remember. "When-when you turned eight, I gave you that huge box of crayons. Do you remember that? It was 120 colors. And all your friends, they got you Star Wars toys, but all you wanted to do was draw with all your new colors."

It was true, Jonathan could remember this too - Will had been so excited, he had pulled out all of the blank paper they had and began scribbling drawings of every shape and size. 

"And you drew this big spaceship, but it wasn't from a movie. It-it was your spaceship. A rainbow ship is what you called it."

Jonathan saw Will's complete focus was on their mother, soaking in every word she spoke. 

"And you must have used every color in the box," Joyce said, choking back a sob. "I-I took that with me to Melvald's and I put it up and I told everyone who came in, 'My son drew this'. And you were so embarrassed, but I was so proud. I was so, so proud."

Jonathan felt a tear streak down his face. This was heart-wrenching, watching his mother begging his brother to remember who he was. He had to remember, he had to fight this...

"Do-do you remember the day Dad left?" Jonathan asked on a shaky breath. Will turned his head toward the sound of Jonathan's voice, searching for him. Jonathan stepped forward, kneeling beside his mother in front of Will. 

"We stayed up all night building Castle Byers just the way you drew it. And it took so long because you were so bad at hammering," Jonathan chuckled saddly, tears clouding his eyes. "You'd miss the nail every time."

Will's lips began to tremble and Joyce's hand slipped into Jonathan's, squeezing firmly in encouragement to continue. 

"And-and then it started raining, but we stayed out there anyway. We were both sick for like a week after that. But we just had to finish it, didn't we? We just had to."

Will's hand began to tremble too, tapping against the chair. 

"Do you remember the first day that we met?" Mike asked, his voice unsteady. Will's head swiveled to his left and Mike stepped forward into the light as well. "It was... it was the first day of kindergarten. I knew nobody. I had no friends and..." Mike sniffled as tears began to run down his cheeks. "I just felt so alone and so scared, but... I saw you on the swings and you were alone too. You were just swinging by yourself. And I just walked up to you and... I asked. I asked if you wanted to be my friend. And you said yes."

Jonathan could almost picture it - four year old Will, in his too-big, hand-me-down overalls, swinging at the swing set, his light brown hair ruffled by the motion of the swing. Little Mike, with his dark hair and freshly pressed clothes, nervously approaching the only other kid who was alone, asking to be friends. Mike Wheeler had always been a good friend to Will. They had been good friends to each other. And last year, when Will went missing, Mike had never given up on Will. 

"You said yes," he repeated. "It was the best thing I've ever done."

Will's eyes shimmered in the bright lights and his lips still quivered. Joyce leaned forward, reaching out to her youngest. 

"Will, baby..."

Will turned from Mike to Joyce, his expression slightly conflicted. 

Joyce's voice almost cracked. "If you're in there, just... please, please talk to us. Please, honey, please, can you do that for me? 

Will whimpered, like he desperately wanted to say something, but couldn't get the words past his lips. 

"Please," Joyce begged, crying. "I love you so much."

Almost immediately, Will's face shifted, his eyes hardening once more. "Let me go," he replied coldly. 

Joyce let out a small sob and she gripped Jonathan's arm. He placed a hand over hers. This couldn't be it. They couldn't have lost Will again. 

Hopper pushed himself off the far wall and motioned urgently for them to follow. Mike followed immediately as Jonathan half pulled, half pushed Joyce out of the shed. 

"Let me go!" Will yelled as Jonathan shut the door firmly behind him.

"He-I know he's still there, Hop," Joyce sniffed, wiping a sleeve across her eye. 

Hopper nodded as he rushed up the stairs into the kitchen, grapping a pen and an old bill envelop from the mail slot. The others stood up as they entered, their expressions uncertain. 

"What happened?" Dustin insisted. 

Hopper began scribbling on the paper as he sighed. "I think he's talking, just not with words." He was drawing a bunch of dots and lines. Jonathan thought the pattern looked familiar, but couldn't quite place it. 

"What is it?" Steve asked, leaning forward to catch a better glance at the paper. 

"Morse code," Mike, Dustin and Lucas answered in unison. 

"H-E-R-E," Hopper spelled out. 

"Here," the boys echoed. 

"Will's still in there," Hopper announced, laying down the pen. "He's talking to us."

Joyce let out a gasp and Jonathan felt her begin to shake beside him. "What do we do?" she asked, her voice trembling. 

"We keep doing what you were doing," Hopper said, rising from the table. "We keep reminding him of who he really is."

"Got it!" Mike nodded. 

Jonathan turned on his heels and ran out to his car, almost tearing The Clash cassette from his car cassette player. He retrieve his boom box and marched back out to the shed. He heard Hopper barking overs to Nancy as he hurried after Jonathan, a radio in hand. 

Will's head snapped up as they reentered the shed, his eyes dark and glaring. 

Jonathan positioned the boom box on floor and hit 'play'. The Clash began to play, the amazing guitar opening echoing in the small space. 

He pulled the spare chair forward and sat down, leaning toward Will. The boy looked at him skeptically. 

"Do you remember the first time I played you this?" Jonathan pressed, willing Will to remember. "Mom and Dad were both arguing in the next room. So I played you the mixed tape I made for you. And it was the first time you got into music. Real music."

Jonathan continued to play the tape while the others took turn offering memories to Will. Mike talked about a D&D game they had played, one of their first campaigns. Joyce told a story of Will when he was little at the park and how he had given up his toy to another child so that she would feel better. . 

"I love you so, so much," she finished, smiling through her tears. 

Suddenly a distant sound of the phone ringing made everyone turn toward the house. Jonathan's heart pounded. Will seemed confused, like he was trying to place the sound. 

Joyce turned to Hopper, her expression terrified. She turned back to Will, about to say something when the ringing started again before being abruptly cut off. 

Will swayed as his eyes drifted shut. His eyes began to roll beneath his eyelids as his body twitched. 

Joyce reached out a tentative hand and placed it on his knee. "Hey, hey, can you hear me?"

Will began breathing quickly, panting. 

Hopper squatted next to Will studying his face for a moment. "It knows," he bit out and Jonathan's heart dropped. "It knows where we are."

Joyce scrambled to her feet to retrieve the sedative from the shelf. "Oh, shit," she muttered as she fumbled with the needle. 

Will almost immediately slumped forward, chin resting on his chest. 

Hopper, Mike and Jonathan stepped outside, scanning the yard and surrounding treeline. The horrible sound of distant screeches echoed in the direction of the Hawkins Lab. 

Oh shit.

That was not good... 

"Get your brother," Hopper ordered. "We gotta get back inside."

Jonathan burst back into the shed. "They're coming!" he told Joyce, rushing to untie the cord that was holding Will down. 

"What?"

Mike knelt on Will's other side, finger scrambling to untie the small knots. 

Hopper grunted in frustration. "Come on, we gotta go."

Jonathan nodded, trying to pull the cord loose. 

"We gotta go," Hopper growled. He pulled out a large knife and cut through the cord with ease. 

Jonathan caught Will's body as it began to fall forward and hoisted it onto his shoulder. Mike pushed open the shed door as Jonathan rushed past, and hurried back inside the relative security of the Byers home. 

Hopper was the last in, throwing the back door shut as he turned the lock. Jonathan carried Will to his bedroom and carefully laid Will down in his bed. He pulled the thin blanket over him and tucked it securely around him. 

Jonathan squeezed Will's hand before closing his bedroom door and returning to the group in the living room. 

"Hey, hey! Get away from the windows!" Hopper yelled at the kids, who were peering through the curtains, trying to make out shapes in the darkness and shadows. 

"You know how to use this?" He cocked Lonnie's air riffle and held it out to Jonathan. 

"What?"

"Can you use this?" Hopper snapped. 

"I can," Nancy replied, stepping toward. 

The Chief threw her the air riffle. Nancy checked the chamber and secured the round before lifting the air riffle to her shoulder. Hopper shouldered his own military-grade weapon and turned to face the front of the house. Steve swung the melee bat, holding it at the ready. 

Joyce clutched at Jonathan's arm, silently crying next to him. 

There would be little they could do against these creatures. Last time, it took Nancy, Jonathan and Steve and they weren't even able to kill the monster, only wound it slightly. 

"Where are they?" the red-headed girl asked. 

An eerie moan sounded from the woods, echoing. There was movement outside the house and then a loud snarl and rushing outside of the kitchen. The group turned toward the noise, Nancy training the riffle at the windows. 

Jonathan kept himself in front of his mother, ready to shield her if need be. 

"What are they doing?" Nancy breathed, barrel of the gun searching for a target. The bushes outside of the dining room window rustled. 

Something roared from the front yard, dangerous and menacing.

Joyce clutched at Jonathan's collar, her hands shaking. Hopper stepped forward, gun raised. 

There was a yelp of pain and the noises stopped abruptly. All at once, the front window shattered and a creature flew inside. 

There was a collective gasp and scream of fright. Hopper moved to engage, but paused as the thing hit the far wall and flopped lifelessly to the ground. Steve was at his back, bat raised. 

It was weird, being able to see one of these creatures in full light. It was much smaller than the monster from last year had been, although its mouth was similar. Its face was split into four sections, the insides layered with rows of razor-sharp teeth. 

"Holy shit," Dustin muttered. 

"Is it dead?" Max asked. 

Hopper slowly approached the creature and extended his foot, nudging its face with the toe of his boot. Its head lolled to the side with no other signs of life. 

As their backs were turned, the front door began to creak. The lock turned on its down accord and the chair lock slid out of place. 

Jonathan tried to push Joyce back, but she clung to him desperately. Nancy reshouldered her riffle, her aim at the door now. 

Slowly, the door pushed open and a small, greased-up kid walked through the door. Nancy faultered, her arms dropping until the riffle was pointed at the floor. 

Was this... 

Blood dripped from the girl's nose as she stared at their small group. 

Jonathan felt his mouth go dry. Joyce let out a small gasp of recognition. 

It couldn't be... 

Mike pushed forward, stepping toward the girl. They stood a small distance apart staring intently at the other until they were both smiling. 

Mike Wheeler stepped forward and embraced the girl from the lab - Eleven. 


	8. Ashes to Ashes

The reunion between Nancy's brother and this strange little girl was so intimate, so pure, that Jonathan felt like he shouldn't be watching, that he should give them some privacy. 

"Why didn't you tell me you were there?" Mike asked, his brow furrowed, "That you were okay?"

Hopper stepped forward. "Because I wouldn't let her." He pushed past Mike as the small-town Police Chief stared down at the small girl in front of his. "The hell is this?" he said with easy familiarity, "Where have you been?"

"Where have you been?" the girl snapped back, staring without fear back at the taller man. 

Hopper sighed and pulled her into a hug, squeezing her to his side. 

Realization dawned on Mike's face as the rest of the small group stood, looking on in confusion. "You've been hiding her. You've been hiding her this whole time!" he said, voice rising, boldly striking out, hitting the Police Chief in the back. Jonathan felt Joyce flinch beside him. He almost didn't realize he was holding his breath, eyes wide as he tried to process, take everything in. 

"Hey!" Hopper barked, rounding to face the thirteen-year-old boy. "Let's talk. Alone." Hopper grabbed the kid's collar and roughly pointed down the hallway and Mike marched out of the living room, his face burning red with anger. 

Nancy looked after her brother, concern etched on her features. 

Eleven stood in front of them, looking a little lost now that Mike and Hopper had left the room. She flinched as a door slammed down the hallway and muffled shouts echoed unintelligibly from a bedroom as Mike screamed at the Police Chief. 

Lucas and Dustin descended upon her, hugging each other as much as they were hugging Eleven. She grinned, nestling her head between theirs. 

"We missed you," Lucas told her, patting her on the back. 

The girl smiled, sniffling softly. "I missed you too."

"We talked about you pretty much every day," Dustin reassured her as the three stepped out of their embrace. 

Jonathan almost chuckled at the strange look Eleven gave Dustin before pointing at his face. 

"Teeth."

"What?"

"You have teeth," she said in awe, before proceeding to stick her finger into his mouth, poking the enamel just to make sure it was real. 

"Oh." Dustin smiled widely. "You like these pearls?" A horrible sound came from his mother and Eleven's nose wrinkled. 

Jonathan couldn't believe that she was standing here, in front of them. Joyce squeezed his arm, tears welling in her eyes as she glance up at him, smiling. 

Eleven pushed passed the red-headed girl, extending her arms out to Joyce. Jonathan moved aside, allowing them some room. 

Joyce cradled the girl in her arms. "Hey sweetheart." 

The girl almost immediately broke down inside of Joyce's embrace. Jonathan looked on as his mother comforted the child and then crossed the room, standing awkwardly next to Steve. 

"Hey," Jonathan muttered, not knowing what else to say in the moment.   
   
Steve nodded to him, leaning the melee bat against the wall. "Hey yourself," he said, not unfriendly. "I can't believe this shit is happening again."

"Tell me about it," Jonathan sighed, eyeing the creature lying motionlessly in the corner. He toed it with the tip of his shoe. "What do we do with it?"

Steve shrugged. "Hell if I know." He paused, considering for a moment. "Can we burn it? It didn't kill the thing last year."

"But this one's already dead, Steve," Nancy commented, coming to stand between the two, arms crossed. "I don't see why we couldn't burn it. Maybe in your backyard?" she suggested, glancing up at Jonathan. 

"I guess. I'd have to ask my mom..." He glanced around, but his mother and Eleven had disappeared. 

Lucas was standing by the red-headed girl, talking to her softly while Dustin leaned against the wall, almost looking bored. 

Beyond Lucas, Jonathan could see that Eleven had emerged from the hallway, his mother at her heels. She stopped in front of the kitchen table, Joyce coming to a stop beside her. Nancy noticed that Jonathan's attention had been diverted and glanced toward the kitchen as well. Jonathan began to move closer. 

"Oh," Nancy gasped softly, mirroring his step. Jonathan glanced back at Nancy for a moment. "The gate," she said, her eyes on the younger girl in front of her. "Will was telling us to close the gate..."

Joyce knelt before Eleven, taking her hands in her own. "Do you really think you could do it?"

Eleven nodded, a tear trekking down her cheek. 

Joyce straightened and kissed the girl's forehead. "You angel," she breathed, before hurrying down the hall to call Hopper. 

Hopper emerged from Will's room with Mike at his back. The dark haired boy made straight for Eleven and did not leave her side, circling around her as if in orbit. Nancy was also watching them. 

"Ok, ok, so just listen, Hop," Joyce pleaded, pulling some paper toward her as she sat at the kitchen table. "You saw the gate, right? It was in the lower level of the lab. If we can get El back there, then she came close the gate. She came close it and we can get Will back." She scribbled on the paper, her notes not making much coherent sense from the other side of the table. Jonathan leaned forward, trying to read the paper upside down.

Hopper sighed as he listened to Joyce. "t's not like it was before," he cautioned calmly. "It's grown. A lot. And, I mean, that's considering we can get in there. The place is crawling with those dogs."

"Demo-dogs," Dustin cut in. 

Hopper heaved another huge sigh. "I'm sorry, what?" he asked, annoyance and anger bubbling just below the surface. 

"I said, uh, Demo-dogs. Like Demogorgon and dogs," He motioned, joining his hands. "You put them together, it sounds pretty badass."

Hopper stared at Dustin blankly for a moment. "How is this important right now?"

Realization seemed to hit Dustin "It's not. I'm sorry," he muttered, bowing his head. 

"I can do it," Eleven said softly. Her confident was staggering. There was no doubt, no hesitation. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she could close that door, severe the connection. 

"You're not hearing me," Hopper shook his head. 

"I'm hearing you," El returned, her eyes intend, honest, true. "I can do it."

"Even if El can, there's still another problem," Mike piped up from Hopper's side. "If the brain dies, the body dies."

"I thought that was the whole point," the other girl - Max - said. 

"It is, but if we're really right about this... I mean, if El closes the gate and kills the mind flayer's army -"

"Will's a part of that army," Lucas cut Mike off, crestfallen. 

Something sharp twisted inside of Jonathan. 

Mike was nodding, confirming what Lucas had left unspoken. "Closing the gate will kill him."

Jonathan gripped the edge of the kitchen table to keep his hands from shaking. This wasn't right, wasn't fair. Will deserved to live a beautiful, carefree life. This couldn't be it, couldn't be the end... He felt a light pressure on his shoulder and knew it was Nancy, offering her silent support, unspoken comfort. 

The silence around the table was almost deafening. Their only option to save Will was the one that would kill him. Either way, they were screwed. Do nothing, and Will, their world, is lost. Close the gate, and Will is lost, gone, forever. It couldn't come down to one of these bullshit 'for the greater good' circumstances, could it? 

"Jonathan."

It was barely a whisper, but in the silence, Joyce might as well as shouted his name. 

Jonathan's head snapped up, his eyes immediately rising to meet his mother's. She rose, beckoning to him. He followed her down the hall and into his bedroom, where Will lay, too still, too motionless to be a natural sleep. Jonathan dropped to his little brother's side, taking one of his small hands in his own. It was bitterly cold. Jonathan rubbing his thumb over Will's knuckles, wishing things could be different. That life wasn't so damn unfair. 

Joyce paused in the middle of the room, her attention not on Will, but on the open window, which was allowing the frigid winter temperatures seep into the room. 

"He likes it cold," she mumbled, barely audible. 

"What?" Hopper voiced for everyone. 

"It's what Will kept saying to me. 'He likes it cold.'" she mused as she moved to the window and pulled it firmly shut. "We keep giving it what it wants," she declared, frustration painting her cheeks pink. 

Nancy nodded, shifting beside Jonathan. "If this is a virus, and Will's the host, then -"

Jonathan understood where she was going. "Then we need to make the host uninhabitable." It was a biological solution to a supernatural phenomenon. 

"So if he likes it cold," Nancy began to reason before Joyce cut her off. 

"We need to burn it out of him," his mother said, her tone of voice dripping with an acidy distain that she usually reserved for when she was speaking about their father. 

"We have to do it somewhere he doesn't know this time," Mike voiced, El glued to his side. 

"Yeah," Dustin concurred, "Somewhere far away."

"I gotta place," Hopper said, pushing off the wall. 

"No," Joyce said, shaking her head, "he'll recognize your trailer and he's been to the Police Station before."

Hopper shook his head, a soft hand resting on Joyce's shoulder. "No, I gotta place, Joyce," Hopper informed her. "My dad's cabin. It's in the middle of nowhere, I hadn't used it in years until -" he glanced at El, looking slightly wary. "El and I have been living there, staking out, for a coming on a year now." 

"Ok," Joyce breathed. "Tell us how to get there."

Hopper snapped at Dustin. "Radio, go get Will's. Now." Dustin and Lucas scrambled from the room with Max quickly chasing after them. "You two," Hopper pointed at Nancy and Steve. "Get heaters, hot plate, electric blankets, anything portable that we can use to heat things up." They nodded and disappeared down the hallway. 

"It's in the middle of nowhere," Hopper pulled Jonathan aside as Mike helped Joyce wrap Will in Jonathan's bedding. "Off the beaten path, so I'm going to have to walk you through this, alright?" Dustin returned, panting, Will's handheld radio held aloft. 

Hopper snatched it out of the kid's hand and shoved it into Jonathan's chest. 

Jonathan fumbled with the radio before shoving it into his jacket pocket. "I'll be on channel ten, alright? It's an unused channel."

Jonathan nodded as Hoppe bent to lift Will onto his shoulder. The Police Chief shifted, settling Will's weight more comfortably before nodding back to Jonathan. Jonathan hurried from the room, grabbing his keys from the living room and pushing open the door. Hopper was right on his heels. Alright, so you'll take Denfield, then you'll see a large oak tree. You're gonna swing a right. That road is gonna dead-end. And it's about a five-minute walk from there." Jonathan opened the door of his car to allow Hopper to lay Will down in the backseat.

"Okay," Jonathan muttered, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to remember each detail. "Denfield to oak tree. Swing a right. That's it. But-but it's channel ten, right?" 

"It's channel ten. Listen. You let me know when that thing is out of him." Hopper slapped him on the shoulder and retreated back into their house. 

Joyce was in the backseat, repositioning Will into a more comfortable position. Hopper returned with the younger kids following after him. Dustin and Max shoved blankets into the backseat next to Joyce and Lucas carefully set a portable heater onto the floorboards. Jonathan settled into the front seat, glancing over at Hopper, who lit a cigarette. Jonathan noticed that the older man's hand shook slightly as he flipped the lighter closed. Jonathan twisted the key in the ignition and as his headlights flickered to life, he could see El and Mike standing inches apart. 

Nancy ran out of the house, panting slightly as she grabbed ahold of the car door. "I'm coming with you," she said, jerking the door open and sliding inside. There was a hot plate gripped in her hand, which she tossed on the floor. 

Jonathan nodded, his chest warming. He can't express in words how glad he is that Nancy would be there. Shared trauma and shit, right? He turned, glancing at his mother, who pursed her lips and nodded curtly. 

Jonathan put the car into reserve and turned the car around. For a short while, Hopper's headlights shone into the back window until he turned toward the Hawkins Lab, leaving them alone. The roads were deserted and dark and a horrible sense of foreboding settled over Jonathan. He flipped on the radio, just so that the music would drown out the worries that threatened to spill from his mind. After several long minutes of driving, they crossed into a heavily wooded areas near the county-line. It was hard to see with the dim headlights, but they caught sight of a tall rectangular pick of rock that was an unnatural shade of white. Painted onto the stone was the name 'Denfield'. Jonathan turned the car onto the dirt road, trying to avoid potholes and ruts as much as possible.

"Denfield to oak tree," Jonathan muttered. 

Nancy glanced around, attempting to peer through the mist and darkness. "Aren't most of these trees oaks?"

"Hopper said take Denfield to the oak tree, then swing a right and the cabin is a five minute walk from there."

They drove on for several more minutes down the dirt road, Jonathan and Nancy searching for the named landmark. 

Suddenly, Nancy hit Jonathan's shoulder. "The road, there's another path, just there."

Squinting ahead, Jonathan saw the dirt road leading on. A large tree grew beside the road, and just to the right of it, a faint set of tire tracks, marking a path. Jonathan swung his car off the road onto the path. His car shivered and shook as it groaned to work its way over tree roots and ruts. 

Joyce made a small noise of protest from the backseat, cradling Will tightly against her. 

Hopper had said a five minute walk, but Jonathan was going to push his car as far as it would go. There were several times the tires spun on mud and dead leaves, but he was able to coax the car further, little by little. 

Finally, a small structure came into view, just up the hill. Jonathan eased the car to a stop and set the hand brake. 

Nancy hopped out and collected as many heaters from the trunk as she could carry. Joyce helped pull Will out of the backseat and Jonathan lifted his little brother into his arms. His mother grabbed the remaining heaters and shut the trunk, sniffling softly. 

Nancy clicked on a flashlight and lead the way to the cabin. Leaves crunched understood as they moved up the hill. 

The cabin looked small and a little run down as they approached. The floor boards creaked under foot as they ascended onto the porch. It looked like Hopper had boarded all of the windows as a precaution, to keep prying eyes away. 

Nancy tucked the flashlight under her arms and pushed open the door. It opened with ease and she disappeared inside. Joyce followed, propping the door open for Jonathan to carry Will through. 

A worn red sofa sat right inside the door and Jonathan careful laid a bundled Will down, brushing the hair from his eyes.  

"It's actually... kinda nice," Nancy remarked, stopping beside Jonathan as she looked around. 

Jonathan straightened, taking in the small cabin. It looked bigger on the inside, but appeared to have a single bedroom and washroom with the kitchen and living room sharing a combined space. Joyce wandered around, before she laid down the heaters she was carrying, gazing into the fireplace. 

She glanced back at Jonathan and Nancy. "We'll do it here," she rasped, voice still thick and rough from crying. 

"What do you need us to do?" Nancy asked, setting the heaters she was carrying on a small coffee table. 

"Uh, well, we, um, need somewhere that Will will be secure..."

"Like in the shed?" Jonathan asked, looking around. It looked like Hopper had a lot of stuff stored here. He opened a box and began to rummage through its contents. 

"Hey," Nancy called. 

Joyce and Jonathan glanced up. She was standing just inside the door to the bedroom. "The bed in here is pretty small, I'm pretty sure we could tie him to the frame?" she suggested. 

Joyce approached the bedroom and appraised the bed, considering. After a moment she nodded. "Sure, that'll do."

Nancy helped Jonathan pull the twin bed out into the living room, setting it up next to the fireplace. 

Jonathan stripped off the extra sheets as Nancy collected some rope and twine from Joyce. 

Joyce went outside to collect firewood while Jonathan knelt beside Will. He took his brother's small hand in his own, holding his icy fingers to his cheek. "I'm really sorry, buddy," he whispered, "but we've gotta do this. We can't let this thing win. I won't let it take you..."

Sighing heavily, Jonathan unwrapped Will from the comforter and collected him in his arms. He moved him across the room to the small twin bed and settled him in the middle of the mattress. 

Nancy handed Jonathan a length of rope and nodded in affirmation. They knelt on either side of Will and began to tie the rope around each of his limbs, securing them to the metal bedframe. 

Joyce returned, dumping an armful of splintered wood onto the floor before stocking the stone fireplace. 

After they had ensured that Will's bindings would hold, Jonathan began to arrange the end tables and chairs around the bed. Nancy began to set a heater on every surface. 

"Mom -" Jonathan called when Nancy couldn't find enough electrical outlets. 

They dug through Hopper's personal boxes until Joyce finally found an extension cord. They tested each heater to make sure the outlets all worked. 

"Ok," Nancy said, groaning slightly as she rose from her crouch. "I think that does it - I- I think we're ready..."

They gazed down at Will's unconscious form. Jonathan attempted to swallow the lump that had risen in his through. He bit his lip, chewing on it for a moment. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked Joyce. This didn't feel right, what they were doing.

Joyce sighed heavily. "This thing has had Will long enough. Let's kill the son of a bitch," she seethed with more venom in her voice than Jonathan ever knew possible. 

"Alright." Nancy retrieved a box of matches from the kitchen and returned to the fireplace, striking a match. Before too long, she had a fire burning hotly. 

Jonathan slowly circled Will, twisting each nob to light up the heaters. They hummed and glowed to life, the red-hot wires buzzing with electricity. 

They stood, watching Will for several minutes. Slowly, the cold cabin began to grow warm. 

Joyce leaned against Jonathan, her eyes never leaving Will. Jonathan took a stuttered breath and wrapped his arm around his mother's shoulder. 

"It'll be okay, Mom," he whispered, rubbing her arm. 

She nodded, sniffing softly. 

Nancy circled behind them, her cheeks growing pink. She sat down on a box next to the fire, offering Jonathan a small smile. 

He tried to return the gesture, but couldn't quite get his lips to cooperate. 

After several long minutes, Jonathan began to feel very warm. The fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, its flames burning warm hues of red, orange and yellow. 

Joyce patted his hand. "We can't let the fire go out," she muttered, pacing at the foot of the bed. 

Jonathan rose to his feet and stepped outside, the night air hitting him with a refreshing slap of cold air. Nancy followed after him, breathing in deeply. 

"It's really starting to warm up in there," she commented as she followed him to the side of the cabin where a large stack of firewood sat. 

Jonathan began to stack the split logs into his arms. "Yeah," he agreed, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. 

Nancy knelt next to him as she began to collect firewood as well. 

When Jonathan's arms were full, he paused, looking at Nancy. She glanced at him curiously as she balanced a final piece of wood under her chin. 

"What?" she asked, almost shyly.

Jonathan shook his head. How could he possibly put it into words? The situation they found themselves in was insane, crazy. His brother was possessed, controlled by this monster, a little girl had come back from the dead and horrible creatures were on the loose. And she had come with him anyway. He shrugged, almost losing a piece of kindling. "I'm glad you're here," he muttered softly, his eyes searching hers. 

She gave him another soft, sad smile. Nancy stepped closer to him and rolling up on her toes, brushed her lips against his. 

It was a chaste kiss, almost pure, a thing of comfort and security. 

Nancy gently bumped against his arm. "Come on, we need to get back inside."

Jonathan followed Nancy back inside, carefully stacking the wood next to the fireplace.  Nancy shoved in a couple new pieces switch crackled in protest at the sudden temperature change. 

Joyce had removed her jacket and her cheeks were getting flushed. Will was starting to sweat, his hair damp and plastered to his forehead. 

Nancy continued to stoke the fire and Jonathan began to feel the heat, sweat of his own trickling down his back. Eventually, both Jonathan and Nancy had to remove their sweaters. It didn't matter though, Jonathan had almost completely soaked through his shirt and even his jeans were starting to feel damp with sweat. 

Joyce continued to pace beside Will's bed, chewing on her finger nail. 

After almost half an hour, Will stirred. He panted slightly, his breathing labored. They all leaned forward, staring. 

Will's eyes fluttered and then drifted open, his expression confused, disoriented. He tried to sit up and was retrained by the ropes that bound his arms. He twisted, trying to figure out where he was. 

"What - what's happening?" he asked. It broke Jonathan's heart. He sounded like himself - sounded like Will, not some demon-possessed Will. 

He kicked his legs, pulling at the straps. 

"Ah - It hurts!" he groaned, throwing himself back down on the bed. 

Jonathan rose slowly, his eyes stinging from sweat.

Will yelled out, in fear, in pain. "It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!"

Jonathan's hands shook as Will began to convulse on the bed. He felt Nancy's fingers curl around his. 

"Let me go! Let me go! It hurts!" Will screamed, his voice falling deeper, gravely, desperate. "It hurts! Let me go! Let me go! It hurts!"

Joyce dropped next to a heater, twisting the nob to the maximum setting. 

"Mom -" Jonathan said, his eyes stinging again, but for a different reason. 

"No!" Joyce yelled, cranking up another heater. 

Will's screamed became guttural. Jonathan's insides ran cold. He couldn't do this, he couldn't watch his baby brother be burned, torn apart like this... They were killing him... 

A sob escaped his lips and he turned away from Will, grabbing onto the one thing that could hold him together. 

Nancy gasped as Jonathan clung to her, tears flowing freely. She wrapped her arms around him as he held onto her for dear life, trying to ground himself against Will's screeches and cries of pain. 

Joyce circled around them, throwing more wood onto the fire, which sparked and snapped. She turned to Will and screamed along with him until all Jonathan could hear was Joyce and Will. 

Nancy went ridged, her fingers digging into his back. 

Joyce finally stopped screaming, but Will didn't stop. He kept pulling, pleading, straining, crying. Jonathan torn himself away from Nancy and turned back to Will. 

Will was almost convulsing on the bed and Jonathan was suddenly worried that he was having a seizure. They had done too much, pushed too far. It felt like it was over 100 degrees in the cabin; if this thing hadn't left Will by now, how in the world were they going to get it out of him?

It was too much, this was all to much. 

"Mom," Jonathan rasped, his voice not functioning properly. Tears still tracked down his face. "Mom, It's not working. It's not working."

Joyce's back was to him and she didn't turn. She was going to end up killing Will while she was trying to save him... 

"Mom, are you listening to me?" Jonathan snapped, feeling his temper starting to rise.

"Just wait!" Joyce shouted, her hands curled into fists. 

"How much longer?" Jonathan challenged. It felt like they had been in the cabin from hell for an eternity now. Will cried out, his body shaking violently, back arched sharply. "Look-look at him!"

"Jonathan, just wait!" Joyce scream, batting his hand aside. 

The contact broke something inside of him. "You're killing him!" Jonathan lashed out, dropping Nancy's hand. 

"Just wait!" 

Will sobbed.

Jonathan shook his head. This was too much, he wasn't going to allow his mother to kill his brother. "No!" He stepped forward, turning the heater closest to him off. 

"No, leave it!" Joyce shrieked, attempting to turn it back on. 

"You're killing him!" Jonathan accused, screaming in his mother's face as she yelled back. "Leave it!"

Nancy touched Jonathan's shoulder and he jerked away, his blood boiling. 

Her thin fingers gripped his arm tightly. "Wait, Jonathan, Jonathan!" Nancy said insistently, pointing. "Look - His neck! His neck!"

Joyce and Jonathan turned, staring at Will. His back twisted and arched sharply, exposing his pale neck. 

Will gasped, choked for air as something seemed to creep up his throat, under his skin. He went completely ridge, his entire body shaking and convulsing. Will's gasp turned into a roar of fury. 

The lights began to flicker, power fading in and out rapidly. 

Nancy's nails were buried in Jonathan's upper arm and he could feel her trembling beside him. 

With a demonic howl, Will tore through one of his restraints. He turned, fingers tearing at his other arm. 

"No!" Joyce screamed, flinging herself on top of Will, attempting to pry his free hand away. Will's head snapped to look up at Joyce and he twisted his hand, closing his fingers around her throat. 

Joyce gasped and sputtered for air, pulling at Will's fingers as they slowly crushed her throat. 

"No, Will, stop!" Jonathan scrambled forward, pulling on his brother's arm. His arm was steel, unbreakable, unbending. Jonathan threw his entire body weight behind him, trying to move his brother's arm.

Joyce's breath gurgled, bubbling too softly. 

"No," Jonathan cried. He couldn't do this, he couldn't lose his brother and his mother all in one night. He wasn't strong enough, he couldn't take it... 

Suddenly, Nancy appeared at Will's other side, carrying something. She reached out and touched Will before he could comprehend what she was doing. 

Jonathan heard a sizzle of hot iron on flesh and the smell of burnt skin filled his nose. 

Will shriek in agony, hand releasing Joyce's throat as he made a desperate lunge for Nancy. She threw herself backwards, just out of reach. 

Jonathan dragged Joyce off of Will, his mother gasping for breath. But as soon as he had pulled her away, Joyce leapt back onto Will's legs. 

"Get the hell out of my son!" she screamed, her voice breaking from the strain on her neck. 

Will jerked, shaking uncontrollably as an unearthly sound ripped from his throat. Joyce stumbled back from Will, knocking Jonathan to the ground. He could feel the fear running cold down his spine. 

Whatever had been under Will's skin erupted from his throat. Dark, grainy mist that curled out like tentacles, vines spilled out, rising and coiling until it shot through the door, leaving a pile of splints in its wake. 

Jonathan scrambled to his feet, ripping the power cords out of the wall. He could already feel the cold air rushing in from outside. Jonathan fell to his knees beside the small bed, his mother sobbing as she slipped Will's tied wrist from the restraint. 

"Will, baby," Joyce pleaded, brushing the damp, matted hair from his temple. "Will. Will.  
 Please, Will. Will..."

Will lay limply on the thin mattress, unconscious, his pulse beating weakly. 

Jonathan gathered up Will's other hand, cradling it gently in his. "Come on, buddy..."

"Please," Joyce cried, her voice raw, "Can you hear me?"

"Come on, come on, Will," Jonathan urged, pleaded. This had to have worked, it couldn't have been for nothing. Please...

Joyce's breath shuttered as she tried to hold back a sob. "Please... Will..."

Will's eyes slowly opened. He stared up at Joyce for a moment, blank, almost unseeing. 

Joyce gasped, fingers shaking. "Will?"

"Mom?" Will mumbled, his brow furrowed in confusion. He had a look on his face like he had just woken from a deep sleep. 

Jonathan felt his eyes well with tears. "Will," he breathed. 

"Mom?" Will asked again, eyes weighed down with exhaustion briefly passed over Jonathan's face. "What -"

Joyce collapsed forward, gathering Will into a hug. "Oh, honey. Oh, God." She sobbed and then Will was sobbing too, terrified, nightmare-waking sobs. 

Joyce's hand gripped Jonathan's collar and he fell into them, wrapped his arms around his family. His small, broken, incredibly strong family. 

"Will," Jonathan heard Nancy whisper behind him. She bent and kissed his head, smoothing his hair as Will clung to Joyce. 

Jonathan gazed up at Nancy. "You need to call Hopper," she reminded him. 

He was supposed to call Hopper, let him know Will was safe, that it was okay to close the gate. 

Jonathan scrambled to his feet, looking around frantically for the radio. 

"There, next to the door," Nancy said, pointing. 

Hopper had a CB radio set up on top of an old stereo system. Jonathan flipped the on switch and clicked the channel over to ten and pushed down on the talk button. 

"Chief?" Jonathan said into the speaker. A crackle of radio static answered him. "Chief, are you there?" He glanced up nervously at Nancy as she walked toward him. "Chief, do you copy?"

For a moment, Jonathan feared that those creatures at the lab had gotten him, when Jim Hopper's voice crackled to life on the radio. 

"Yeah, I copy," he answered. 

Jonathan licked his lips, collecting his breath. "Close it. Close the gate. We got it, we got it out of Will."

"Roger that," Hopper said before the radio went silent. 

Joyce held Will, soothing him as she untied his ankle restraints. Jonathan leaned against the wall and scrubbed his face with his hand. It was in Hopper's hands now - or rather, Eleven's. 

Jonathan slowly made his way back over to the small twin bed and sat down. Will leaned heavily against their mother, exhaustion fighting against him, but he reached out toward Jonathan and he took his brother's hand. 

Jonathan rubbed Will's knuckles with his fingers as Joyce hummed to him, Will's head rested in her shoulder. 

Nancy approached, a glass of water in her hands that she extended to Will. 

Will smiled faintly and accepted the glass with shaking hands. He took a small sip and then handed it to Joyce. 

Joyce set the glass down on the floor, rubbing Will's arm as she held him firmly in her embrace. 

"What happened?" Will whispered, dark rings forming under his eyes. 

"Shh," Joyce hushed, smoothing his hair. "We'll talk about it later. You're safe now, just - just rest."

Will gave a small nod of ascent and sighed heavily, his eyes drifting closed. 

They sat on the mattress, huddled together, holding onto each other. Nancy sat opposite Jonathan, her knee pressing against his.

Will sighed and murmur something unintelligible. Joyce rubbed his back, brushing a finger across his cheek. 

The cold air from the open door rapidly cooled the cabin down, but the fire still burned in the fireplace, crackling pleasantly. 

Suddenly Will straightened, his eyes widening. 

"Eleven," he breathed, barely audible. 

The lights flickered, then flashed and then began to burn brighter and brighter until it was almost impossible to see. 

Nancy grabbed Jonathan's hand as they hugged Will tighter, blinking against the blinding brightness that had consumed the cabin. 

After several long seconds, the lights flickered again and then slowly dimmed until they returned to a soft, dull yellow glow. 

"She did it," Will whispered, his head dropping back to Joyce's shoulder. "She did it..."

Jonathan could feel Will relax until his eyes slid shut and his breath grew deep and even with sleep. Jonathan bent and rested his forehead against Will's thin shoulder. 

He could feel his mother run her fingers through his damp hair as she held both her boys. Jonathan could feel his own exhaustion begin to tug at his consciousness. 

He doze off, fading in and out of sleep until bright lights shining through the open hole that used to be a door woke him. Nancy was sitting on the floor next to him, her head resting against his knees. 

Joyce shifted Will to lay against Jonathan and she rose, walking outside. A large figure crossed in front of the head beams, tailed by a tiny one. 

Jonathan couldn't hear the words being exchanged, but saw his mother move forward and put her arms around the two figures, one big, one small. Jonathan rested his cheek against Will's head, trying to get his eyes to focus. 

Hopper entered through the ruined door and dropped into a squat in front of Jonathan. Nancy did not wake, but Will's eyes opened slowly, 

"Hey kid," Hopper said, smiling. "Good to have you back."

"Thanks," Will croaked, his voice rough and raw. He shifted against Jonathan's chest, gazing up at the girl that stood peeking out behind Hopper's shoulder. "Eleven," he murmured, his hand reaching toward her. 

She stepped forward and sat down gently on the bed next to Will. Her eyeliner was nothing more than black smudges beneath her eyes now and there was a large stain of blood under her nose. She smiled nervously and took Will's hand, but he reached further, brushing her cheek with his fingers tips. 

Eleven looked slightly surprised and then smiled sadly down at Will. 

"Thank you," he whispered, barely audible. "You saved me."

"You saved us all," Jonathan added, nodding to the girl sitting next to them. Nancy stirred at his knee. 

Tears filled Eleven's eyes and her lip trembled. "You're my friends," she murmur softly, squeezing Will's hand. 

Will moved his head to the side. "No," he breathed, shivering slightly, "you're family."

Jonathan felt Will lean heavily against him and knew he'd drifted back to sleep. 

Jonathan reached out and gently squeezed Eleven's hand, which was still wrapped in Will's small fingers. Tears began to stream down the young girl's face as she glanced at him and then down at Nancy. Nancy leaned against Jonathan's legs as she stretched, adding her own hand to press against Eleven's. She nodded, affirming Will's words. 

Eleven sniffed, running her sleeve across her eyes. Her make-up was even more smeared, tears leaving pink stripes down her chin, but when she looked back up, her smile lit up her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Christmas :) 
> 
> I'll try to wrap things up next chapter and then I'll be moving onto some other stories, but I've still got some things to write for Jonathan's past in "Don't Take it so Personally". I hope you've enjoyed reading, I really do love diving deeper into these characters to try to figure out what's going on inside their heads.


	9. If you think we're gonna make it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a long delay, am finally getting around to wrapping somethings up.
> 
> As always, characters belong to the Duffer Brothers and music belongs to David Bowie.

_"Under mounting pressure, several high-ranking members from the U.S. Department of Energy have admitted involvement in the death and cover-up of Hawkins resident Barbara Holland who died due to exposure to an experimental chemical asphyxiant, which had leaked from the grounds of the lab."_

It was the following week that the article ran. It was quickly picked up through several local news outlets and suddenly, national media were everywhere around Hawkins. The Department of Energy had sent in a team from Washington D.C. to deal with the clean-up from the night the creatures came through the gate, but it was too late. The panic had spread and residents began to demand that the facility be shut down. 

Murray considered it to be a huge victory and even came into town when the military were officially decommissioning the building, just to gloat. 

But the real issue had been to bring justice; hold someone accountable for Barbara Holland's death. The tape that they had recorded with Murray was vague enough that it alluded to the lab having a hand in killing Barb, but did not name exactly what had been the cause of death. Murray had insisted that they just needed to give the government a small push toward the truth and they would come up with a plausible explanation. And they had. After several weeks of protests, the government finally issued a formal statement on the matter. General Hazelwood and Senior Director Boonville admitted that the lab was responsible leaking a chemical into the environmental which was a contributing factor in Barb's death. They claimed that they had been testing experimental toxins and somehow a prototype asphyxiant had leaked from a run-off pipe that ran along the roadway where Barbara's car had been. They pitched the story that Barbara had known something was wrong and had exited the vehicle, only to fall pray to the toxin and in a state of drugged confusion, wandered off into the woods and passed away. It had been a devastating discovery to the Hollands, to learn the truth about Barb... well, not exactly the whole truth, but as close as they were able to come to truth. 

The night the story went public, Jonathan accompanied Nancy and Murray to the Hollands' house. They met Steve at the front door and together, they entered the house. 

Jonathan had never been to the Hollands' home before, truthfully, he couldn't recall very many times he had actually spoken to Barbara at all. They were in the same classes growing up, but never ran in the same social circles. Of course, he had never really had any social circle before...

Murray made an appearance to the Hollands, giving them his "watered down" story to cooperate the government's tale. It was a mercy, Nancy told Jonathan later, although the horrible kind - the one that allow the Hollands to get closure for Barbara and move forward without giving up their lives for a lie. 

Nancy and Mrs. Holland hugged and cried, clinging to each other, mourning for a lost friend, a lost daughter. It was good for Nancy to finally be able to publically mourn the loss of her best friend after holding it inside for over a year. Mr. Holland sat in his chair, shoulders slumped forward, silent tears falling from his eyes. Murray and Jonathan sat side-by-side on the couch, Murray staring into his drink while Jonathan's eyes stayed focused on his hands, clasped tightly in his lap. After several long minutes, Murray abruptly rose and excused himself, leaving the house as though it was on fire.

After Murray had left, the five of them sat in the Holland's living room, uncomfortable silence that was occasionally broken by a sob. Finally, Mr. Holland rose from his chair and after rummaging in a bookcase, pulled a photo album from the shelf. 

He knelt beside the coffee table and opened the book, flipping through pictures of a young, red-headed girl with large, round glasses. 

Nancy knelt on the opposite side, reaching out to touch a picture every so often, giving an explanation of what they had been doing that day. It was bittersweet moment, full of laughter and tears. 

As Jonathan drove her back home, she sobbed beside him in the car. When he finally parked his car in front of the Wheeler's house, he pulled her close, wrapping her in his arms. She sobbed into his chest, shoulders shaking as her tears soaked through his sweater. Jonathan rested his head atop her, at a loss for words. What could you say to comfort someone whose heart was broken?

Nancy eventually stopped crying, but did not pull away, staying within the warmth and comfort of Jonathan's arms. Finally, she twisted, looking up at him. He softly brushed a curl off her cheek, thumb wiping away a tear that lingered. 

"I miss Barb so much," she whispered. 

"I know," Jonathan breathed into her hair, sighing heavily. 

"But I..." she paused, considering her next words. "I-I almost... I feel relieved..." Nancy sat up and looked at Jonathan, her eyes swimming with tears. She started to shake as she choked back a sob. 

"Hey," Jonathan soothed as he pulled her back to him. "Hey. It's okay. You've been keeping the truth inside for so long... It's understandable that you would feel that way." He could feel Nancy clutching at his sleeve and he wrapped her up in his arms again. "You shouldn't have had to hold onto that for so long... it's okay..."

After a while, Nancy sat up again, wiping the tears from her eyes as she sniffed softly. The street lights cast a yellow hazy across the street, the chilly winter night settling in quickly around them. Nancy leaned toward Jonathan again and brushed her lips against his. He sighed, closing his eyes as he sank into the feeling of her lips on his. He didn't think he would ever get used to this, electricity coursing through his veins and pooling deep within his core every time she touched him like this... 

The reporters were relentless over the next few weeks, staking out the front of the Hollands' home, demanding statements and photographs. Nancy tried to chase them off, but they persisted, much to the dismay of the Hollands. They tried to go about their affairs, but the reports made it extremely difficult to plan for any arrangements. They held a small funeral for Barb, burying a casket without a body. It was a bitter affair, that offered little in the way of closure, but at least Barbara's parents could morn their daughter properly instead of chasing after her ghost. Both Jonathan and Steve were there in support of Nancy and to honor Barb's memory. 

Eventually, time passed and the reports left, moving onto more interesting stories. 

The days continued to pass and normalcy returned to Hawkins. It was odd, how quickly things sank back into a familiar routine, Jonathan pondered, when so many strange things had occurred in the last 12 months. 

Steve remained friendly with both Nancy and Jonathan, the three often sitting together for lunch. Jonathan noticed that Steve had taken Dustin under his wing and was glad that someone was finally playing a that role in Dustin's life. 

Joyce couldn't get over her paranoia or overprotective tendencies toward Will. Will understood, but it still bothered him to have his mother or big brother trailed after him everywhere he went. 

And yet sometimes, in the middle of the night, Will would silently pad his way to into Jonathan's room and would slip under the covers, a hand or a foot reaching out to make contact with Jonathan as if to ground himself to the real world. Jonathan never pushed Will away and would watch his little brother closely throughout the night to make sure that he was alright. Will would occasionally mutter in his sleep, mostly incoherent gibberish, but sometimes, he spoke words clearly that sent shivers down Jonathan's spine. It seemed that even though they had rid the monster's control over Will, it still plagued his mind. But there was always one person who seemed to be at the fore of Will's dreams who could chase away the demons. Sometimes he whispered El's name and other times, he called out for her. Jonathan didn't know what it was, but Will and Eleven - Jane - seemed to have a deep connect that no one really understood. When Will began to have these fits, Jonathan would crawl out of bed and insert a record into the turntable, tuning the volume to just audible and then climb back into bed beside Will, often cradling his brother's small hand in his own as a means for comfort, support, and reassurance that everything was going to be alright. 

One cold night, as winter began to descend upon Indiana, Jonathan laid next to his little brother and stared up at the ceiling, listening to the wondrous voice of David Bowie as he sang... 

_Never had a good thing going  
And, you know, never had a thing on  
My baby got out last Monday  
And me, I'm on a radio show_

_So come on  
Come on  
We really got a good thing going  
(Well) Come on  
(Well) Come on  
If you think we're gonna make it  
You better hang on to yourself_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay in wrapping up this fic. Trying to tie up some loose ends and will be working on finish up some of my other stuff as well. Thanks for sticking around!


End file.
